


Lie To a Liar, For Lies Are His Coin

by roomapple



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alcohol, Attemps at violence, Attempt at Humor, Based on RP, Body Horror, Codes & Ciphers, Demonic Possession, Dreams, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grunkle Stan-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Illusions, Lies, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Violence, OR IS IT, Pines Family, Stangst, Swearing, basically we set out to do angst but we're both big ol' softies, blurry personalities, injuries, irresponsible use of caffeine, same coin theory, sick burns, slightly more graphic violence, stan fights his inner demons, threats of eating a consicous creature, unreality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8323150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roomapple/pseuds/roomapple
Summary: It's been almost exactly one year since Weirdmaggedon and life has been treating the Pines pretty well.Unfortunately, that's when Stan's past decides to come back to haunt him. Quite literally.





	1. Florida

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on an rp with my friend Artist and was born out of a mutual love for the same coin theory (http://dubsdeedubs.tumblr.com/post/148072136190/a-time-pirates-theory-spoilers-now-same-coin) so we decided to work it into a story! 
> 
> Lie to a liar, for lies are his coin; Steal from a thief, for that is easy; lay a trap for a trickster and catch him at first attempt, but beware of an honest man.
> 
> In this chapter Artist plays Ford and I play Stan. (Artist also plays the mail man with his grand total of one line XD)

 

It had been almost a full year of adventuring for the elderly Pines twins since the summer of 2012. They had dealt with monsters, some friendly, some less friendly, and Ford had even been able to publish some of the things he and his brother had researched. The year  so far had really been one of  the best of their lives, earning enough from the published research to keep traveling the seven seas on their Stan o' War 2 as much as their hearts desired.

Right now however, they were in a harbor somewhere in the south east of the US, enjoying some breakfast.  Stan was sitting across from Ford in one of the booths and was currently busy adding too much maple syrup to his stack of pancakes, his tongue sticking out just slightly. He shoveled one in his mouth and grinned at Ford with his mouth full.

 "Hah! Eatin stuff that hasn't been canned or dried. This is the good life Ford, I tell ya." He swallowed and raised an eyebrow. "Almost makes up for berthing in Florida of all places."

"Heh, it sure is quite nice," Ford chuckled, remembering the times they had been short on food. Despite no lack of money, they hadn’t always been able to make it to the shore on time to keep it from running out. He took a sip of his coffee and continued reading the news on the side. He ignored Stan’s remark about Florida. "I wonder how the kids are doing," he hummed instead.

 Stan chuckled as he cut off another piece of his stack. "I imagine Dipper's busy obsessin' over his problem of the week and Mabel's somehow finding the time to knit us even more sparkly accessories." He tapped his pink, very glittery, woolen hat, which he wore with pride, for emphasis.

He stuffed his mouth with pancakes and syrup once again. "Those kids," he mumbled smiling, then looked back up, "We should ask 'em to come back round Oregon this summer. It'd be great to see 'em again. Soos too, an' his brand new fiancé."

 Ford chuckled too, looking over his matching hat lying on the table close by. He probably would have continued what he was doing right now, if it wasn't for a mailman coming in and asking for the two.

Stan put up his hand. "That's us," he called to the mailman.  He grinned at Ford, while the man was making his way over to their table. "Classy joint, Ford. Eating breakfast an' receiving mail. Like nature intended!" He turned in his seat to face the mailman. "Watcha got for us today, Mr. Postman?"

"Some mail from Oregon," the mailman said, handing the two the latter. Surely enough, it was send by Soos.

"Speak of the devil," Stan said as he read the letter, "it's from Soos an' he's asking us to come over in a few weeks." He furrowed his brow for the next part. "The rest of this seems to be-" he turned the letter over, "- some kind of ramble on somthin' called 'Roast Beef Bubble Gum." He skimmed the letter until he got to the end. "Ah! He invited the kids too. Good ol' Soos," he laughed.

 Ford smiled at Stan.  "Well, we sure deserve a little break from adventuring. I would love to see the kids again anyhow."

Stan stuffed the letter in his pocket. "Me too, Sixer. Whaddaya say, we kick that skunk ape's butt, you take some nerd notes an' then we set sail to Road kill, Oregon tomorrow."

"Fine," Ford said, finishing his coffee and getting up to pay for the meal. The skunk ape had never been highest on his list of priorities, but after it had become apparent over the past year that almost every single state had its own cryptid, he’d made it his unofficial mission to record all of them. Florida’s was just…slightly underwhelming, but there was a certain satisfaction in being able to complete a list.

Stan finished the last of his pancakes and followed Ford to the counter as he was paying and punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"I'll go ready the Stan O war II, while you're busy using your money to pay for things like a schmuck," he grinned.  He walked out the door and looked over his shoulder.

 "See you real soon, IQ!"

Ford paused shortly at the nickname.  It was familiar. He knew _exactly_ where he had heard it before. He looked up to the doorframe, but Stanley had already taken off. He sighed. Clearly he was just being ridiculous. He shook his head and continued what he was doing before following his brother to the dock.

 

\---

 

"Do do do, readying the ropes, doin' some general boat stuff," Stan sung when Ford arrived to the boat. He looked up when he noticed his brother boarding. "Just help me lift the anchor an' we're ready to go," he grinned. "Then tell me what direction we're off to."

Ford took out the old laptop McGucket constructed and looked up the tracks the skunk ape so far had left behind and where it would most likely go next.

"The ape should grow to its nesting grounds in the swamps of Florida Swamp Lake up the river connecting to the ocean around 5 miles up the coast," Ford said in that stern voice he always had when talking about his research. "If we hurry we should be there by three PM and get to see of the nursing habits of their species."

 Stan read over Ford's shoulder. "Famous for its unpleasant odor," he read out loud.  “'Also known as the swamp cabbage man.' Sounds like we got a real winner here, Pointdexter. Can't imagine he'll take up that much of our time." 

\------

 

Not that much later Stan was running back towards the boat with Ford slung over his shoulder.

"I'm guessing nursing habits include bein aggressively territorial about their offspring," he yelled.

Ford was still noting down as quite a bunch of  skunk apes chased after them, his mood being somewhere between slightly ecstatic and terrified for his own life.

 "They're quite protective of their offspring. Fascinating!"

  "Fascinating, my ass," Stan groaned, before he half-jumped on their boat and unceremoniously dropped Ford on the floor. He pushed his boot against the shore and breathed heavily as they drove off.

 "C'mon," he said, regarding the screaming apes on shore for a moment, then turning to Ford, grinning, "the only smelly monkeys I wanna see from now on are waitin for us in Gravity Falls."

Ford groaned slightly from landing on the ground, but he got up with a small chuckle. “To Gravity Falls!” he repeated.

  With that, he joined the sailing towards what they after all this adventuring still considered their home.

 


	2. The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan and Ford reunite with the rest of the family, then take a nice walk through the Gravity Falls woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the plot to make an appearance! 
> 
> I play Stan and Dipper  
> Artist plays Ford, Mabel, Soos, Wendy and Pacifica

About a week later, the Stan O war II reached the Gravity Falls harbor.

 "Ah, Gravity Falls," Stan sighed, "it is good to be back!"

He laughed at Ford. "Hate to admit it, but this backwards town really grew on me in those thirty years I lived here."

"I know what you mean," Ford said, taking their bags from inside the boat. "It doesn't look like much has changed,” he said, coming out again.

 But just like that, two familiar voices greeted them, soon followed by them finding themselves each in a tight hug. "Grunkle Stan! Great uncle Ford!"

 Stan picked his great niece up and spun her around. "Mabel! Dipper!" he laughed, "No one told us you little gremlins would be here too or we would've skipped!"

Mabel giggled. "Grunkle Stan, you can't lie to me. I know you love us."

Ford looked down at Dipper, noting how much the twins had grown since the last time he had seen them. "It's  great to see you two again."

Dipper smiled up at his great uncle. "It's great to see you two again too.” He held up his own journal. "I think you'll really like some of the cool things we found this year. One of our gym teachers was a vampire! We went to stake him, but in the end the whole thing was solved with some iron supplements and a lesson on respecting other people’s property."

Stan put Mabel on the ground. "You kids..." he said, shaking his head.

 "Haha, that's my apprentice," Ford laughed. "You can tell me all about once we get back to the shack."

"That's right," Stan said as he noogied Dipper on the head. Dipper fixed his hat and punched Stan playfully in the stomach, earning an over-exaggerated wheeze from his grunkle.

 "Gettin strong kid," Stan remarked, rubbing the spot. He walked off the pier and looked around. "Hold on! How'd you kids get here?"

 

"Surprise!" Soos called, throwing some confetti in the air just as he fell to the ground. Getting back up, he was the next to pull Stan in an almost bone crushing hug. "I missed you so much Mr. Pines!"

"Soos... Can't... Breathe," Stan coughed out. When Soos lessened his grip a little bit, he laughed and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "Missed ya too, kid. Hope you took good care of the shack"

"Oh I did," Soos said full of joy like little kid. "Melody and I managed to pump up the sales a bit with a few new attractions and I build a statue in your honor and only almost set the place on fire once!"

Stan raised his eyebrows appreciatively. "A statue in my honor, eh?" He turned to Ford. "Ya hear that, Sixer? There's a statue in my honor!" He hit Soos on the shoulder. "Well done, Soos."

Soos chuckled, clearly appreciating the gesture. Ford chuckled lightly as well, rolling his eyes at Stan's ego boosting, while Mabel chimed in and said she helped fixing it a little.

"Yeah, she had the experience building wax Stan, after all," Dipper added, catching up with the rest.

"Ah yeah, wax Stan!" Stan exclaimed, "I liked that guy! Up until the whole fu-" he suddenly stopped and glanced at Ford. "-neral. HAHAH, let's go to the shack!" He marched towards the car.

"Stan, what does that mean?" Ford said, walking after him with a raised eyebrow

"Might have thrown a funeral for a wax doppelganger of me Mabel made in the beginning of the summer," Stan mumbled, "'s no big deal okay? I was still operatin’ under the impression I'd never be able to fix that portal."

"And it turned out the other wax statues Stan had were secretly alive and tried to kill us!" Mabel chimed in.

Stan turned around and frowned. "I was _not_ aware of that last part," he said. "Just how often did you kids almost die on my watch last summer?" Dipper started counting on his fingers, but Stan held up a hand. "Sheesh, forget I asked! I forgot you kids are some kind of danger magnets."

"Heheh, yeah," Soos chuckled, Ford still being quite baffled. He would have to talk to Dipper about all of that later. But then he remembered all the dangerous events from last summer he alone had with Dipper and decided he really wasn’t one to talk. "Well, let’s go finally. There is something I would like to check on," he said instead.  He tried to sound excited, but it was clear he was nervous about something.  

 "Yeah," Stan agreed, "there's some things I'd like to check on as well. My good chair for example!"  He threw his bags in the trunk of his former car and tapped Soos on the shoulder. "You're driving yeah?" He didn't wait for an answer before getting on the passenger seat and putting on his seatbelt.

Soos was quickly taken into Stan's enthusiasm, stumbling to the driver’s side, chuckling. "Hehe, yeah, ROAD TRIP!”

"Road trip, road trip!" the kids chanted as they climbed into the backseat together with Ford. Stan turned around. "It's a thirty minute ride tops, kids. Don't get yer hopes up." He put his feet up on the dashboard. "Hit ‘er up, Soos! The shack is waitin’ for us!"

"YES!" Soos cried out, stomping on the speed pedal probably a bit too suddenly as it started to speed away.

Stan's knees almost knocked into his face because of the sudden acceleration. "Be careful will ya?" he scolded a little.

 "You should just sit like a regular person, grunkle Stan," Dipper said. Stan turned in his chair. "Hey, I did not ask for opinions, smart guy!"

"He's right, ya know," Ford said, imitating Stan's voice, slightly mocking him, while Soos profusely excused as he limited the car's tempo.

"Says the guy currently smushed up on the backseat," Stan grinned at Ford, "I think I'll wait another thirty years before I'll take car sittin’ advice from you." He turned back and put his feet on the ground anyway. “‘s all right Soos," he said.

Ford decided to be the bigger man and did not dignify Stan with a response. He  turned to Dipper instead and started to ask questions about last summer and what the twins had been up to while he and Stan were adventuring.

Dipper opened his journal on his and his uncle's lap and started recounting all the strange things they had encountered. Stan opted to close his eyes for a little bit as Soos drove them to the shack.

 

His sleep was interrupted by a loud knock on his door. "Mornin' Mr. Pines," Wendy said once Stan calmed down from being so abruptly interrupted in his sleep.

Stan put a hand on his heart while he caught his breath. He got out of the car and laughed back at Wendy. "Good to see ya too, kid," he said. "Ya got me good there."

She chuckled, giving her former boss a playful punch on the shoulder. "That's what ya get from falling asleep in your car"

Stan got to his trunk to remove his bag. "Watch it lady, or I'm retroactively dockin' yer pay for all the times you were napping during work time." He opened it and was pleasantly surprised to find someone already carried his bags inside and made his way to the shack.

"You wouldn't dare," she glowered, cheeks poofing out a little.

"Oh, don't ya test me missy," Stan laughed as he walked into the living room and sat on his chair. "Thanks for keepin my chair around, Soos!" he yelled to wherever he was in the shack.

"No Problem, dude!” Soos called from the gift shop. Wendy scoffed, rolling her eyes as she returned into the gift shop as well. It was like the summer before, the kids talking to Pacifica, who seemingly had started working in the Mystery Shack and Melody shortly passed through the room to get the broom.

 

"Welp I'm bored," Stan said, after sitting on his chair for like two minutes and walked into the gift shop too. He admired his statue for a while. "Ya really captured my rugged handsomeness, Soos," he said, then turned around. "Say, where's Ford?"

"Oh, he went out in the woods a while ago. Not sure what he's doing" Soos said with a shrug just as Melody informed him about an upcoming tour bus.

Stan frowned. "By himself? How long's he been out for?" he asked, not worried quite yet, but getting there.

"Uh, yeah, he went alone" Pacifica spoke up, seemingly a bit more restrained than usual.

Stan squinted his eyes. "Blonde girl? he said, slightly disoriented, "when did you start working in my shack?" He caught himself. "Apologies, _Soos’_ shack!" he said, tipping his hat at Soos, before turning to Pacifica again. "But seriously, how long's he been away? Don't you all know my brother has a very questionable talent for gettin’ himself into trouble in every possible way?"

"I... uh..." she stammered, growing more nervous, "I wouldn't know, but uh, I think he's been away for about half an hour.”

 Stan looked at the other kids in the gift shop. "An’ he mentioned to none of you where he went off to?"

Dipper rubbed his arm. "He said he just wanted to go for a little walk. Uh, to get some fresh air."

Stan stared at Dipper. Well, that was one of the more blatant lies he'd heard from the kid's mouth. That meant his brother was keeping secrets from him and _that_ usually meant trouble.  He stretched and yawned, then looked straight at Dipper again. "Not a bad idea. Might as well go join him then, don't I?" He walked out of the shack and into the woods before any of the kids could respond.

 

Stan swore as he stalked through the woods. Luckily, he had a pretty good idea of where his brother had buggered off to. There were few subjects that the Pines twins occasionally kept secret from each other, one of those glaringly obviously located in these very woods.

And yeah, upon nearing Cipher’s statue, he could already hear Ford mumbling to himself. Stan swore again. He walked up behind Ford's back. "Ya hadn't had enough of the triangle jerk yet, bro?" he said rather loudly.

 Ford jumped up, tumbled and landed on his butt. "Jesus, Stanley," he said, calming himself down again. "You scared me."

 Stan put his hands in his sides. "I intended to. What gives, Ford? Thought it might be a good idea to take a walk by yerself  in the woods to go mess with the space nacho that nearly killed us all last year? I swear, for a smart guy you can be surprisingly dumb sometimes."

"I just..." Ford grumped as he got up, but paused to collect himself. "It's nothing, I just was a little paranoid." Before Stan could say anything, Ford held his hands up in defense. "I know, I know, it's ridiculous."

Stan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, not impressed. "Well, did ya find anything?" He wiggled his fingers. "Some kind of spooky ghostly energy?" He walked towards the statue. "Clearly, ya don't really think it's ridiculous, or ya would've just taken one of the kids or me, like usual." He crouched down to inspect the statue too. "Looks pretty dead to me."

"Yeah... maybe I am just going crazy" Ford said, rubbing his hair. "I didn’t exactly sleep well yesterday, perhaps that's the reason I am going a little off the hook."

Stan smiled and got up. He felt strangely nervous, but decided to suppress it. Like hell would he get that dumb demon get the better of him. Instead he playfully punched Ford in the arm. "Of course, yer going crazy bro! This dumb statue’s nothing to be afraid of. It's just dead rock." To emphasize his point, he pushed against the top of the statue, intending to tilt it.

 The statue didn't move an inch.

 He looked back at Ford. "Kinda heavy though. Proves nothing."

Ford's gaze was fixed on the statue. Memories swirled in his head and he could almost hear that demented laugh again. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he said with a sigh: "I can't seem to get the end of last summer out of my head."

Stan patted Ford's shoulder in an attempt at comforting. "Yeah..." he said lamely. His gaze fell on the statue's outstretched hand.

_No! Terrible idea!_   his mind immediately shouted at him.

 Stan stilled for a second, then internally shrugged. 'Terrible idea' was kind of his middle name anyway. "It's over though." He took the statue's hand in his own. "See? Completely harmless!"

For a few seconds, nothing happened at all.

 

Suddenly, the statue collapsed, completely crumbling down into pieces in an instant, its expression seemingly looking relieved.

 "What the-?" Ford yelped as he jumped back, before leaning down and inspecting the remains once again. "What did just happen?"

Stan looked stunned at his own hand. "I-I broke it?" he said, slightly higher pitched than he intended. He took a step back, then another one and another one and shook his head. "It's probably nothing, the statue must've been....old! Or fragile!" His head hurt a little. He took another step back. "Let's- Let's just get outta here, Sixer!"

"It wouldn't just break," Ford muttered. "I mean... does this mean anything?" He kept on rambling, keeping inspecting the wreckage.

 All while there was a faint stroke of electricity zipping through Stan's veins and shortly, just for less than a second, he could swear he saw Bill  where his remains used to be.

Stan grabbed Ford's sweater and half-dragged him along away from the statue. "NOPE! Don't mean a thing!" he yelled. He refused to let his imagination- because it had to be his imagination- get to him. "But on a completely unrelated note, let's go home right now immediately and never speak of this again, yeah?"

"What the-? Stanley, what has gotten into you?" Ford asked, trying to get up but at the speed Stan was going only slipped on his butt again.

Stan groaned in frustration and pulled Ford up at his arm and started dragging him along again. "I just figure, there's no need to worry anyone, when there's CLEARLY nothing wrong," he said, looking forward, while stalking away from the former statue as fast as he could without making it outright running. "If anything, we should be GLAD that good-for-nothing statue is gone for good now!

Ford was just baffled at his brother’s behavior, which surely didn't make his paranoia lessen in any way. It more raised it. He had no choice but to follow his brother, although he kept on looking at the statue remains until said remains were too far out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist: even in a non-disney controlled RP we still make sure they always wear their seat belts!  
> Snail: gotta wear that seat belt or mickey mouse comes into your house in the dead of the night and straight up murders you dead


	3. Ducktective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan breaks a pinky promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I play Stan and Dipper.  
> Artist plays Ford, Mabel, Pacifica, Melody, Soos and introducing...Bill Cipher.

Stan almost pushed Ford inside, when they reached the Shack again. "We're back!" he announced loudly. He left Ford in the gift shop and immediately walked on to the kitchen. "What's cookin', Soos? The forest air makes you hungry, I tell ya!" He laughed a little too loud.

"Uh, Grunkle Stan, are you alright?" Mabel asked as she followed Stan into the kitchen, while Ford readjusted himself in the gift shop.

Stan turned around and planted a hand on the table. "I'm doing great, pumpkin," he said, "Nothing lifts the spirits like a nice and invigorating walk around the woods with your nerdy twin brother." He smiled down at her and ruffled her hair. "I missed these woods ya know? I'm just so happy to be back here."

Her  face pulled into a slightly angry frown.  "Stan, why you ackin' so cray cray?," she asked, crossing her arms.

 Stan pulled his hand back and put both of them to his chest. "Who's ackin' cray cray?" he asked, mock offended. "Meee?" He laughed again.  "Mabel sweetie, you're starting to take after yer brother. I'm fine, I swear."

Crossing her  little arms, she said: "Grunkle Stan, it’s clear you're not!"

 "I can only agree." Ford joined the two. "You're starting to worry me, Stanley. You’ve been acting very strangely since you broke-"

Stan slung an arm around Ford's neck and noogied him on his head, cutting him off. "Broke the hearts of ladies and gents alike sailin’ the seven seas these past few months!" he laughed, squeezing his arm around Ford a little harder than necessary. He released Ford and walked into the living room. "Who wants to check out what's on TV!?" he yelled.

"Is your uncle alright?" Pacifica could be heard from the gift shop talking to Dipper, while Mabel and Ford came after Stan and kept asking him what was wrong and how clear it was he was acting suspicious.

Dipper shrugged. "If I've learned anything last summer it's that Stan's always keeping a secret or two," he said. "He'll also probably won't tell us until the last possible moment." He wrote something down in his journal, and then smiled at Pacifica. "Who knows? Maybe they've been secretly triplets all along."

Hearing his nephew, Ford could only sigh, finally giving in. "Fine, you go ahead and enjoy TV, Stan, but I'm going back to inspect... the thing.” With that, he left the room.

Stan frowned as he watched Ford leave the shack again. Mabel looked between him and Stan, a bit unsure of what to do. "You know," she finally spoke up "It'll probably be better if you tell us right now before something weird happens.”

Stan smiled at Mabel. "Pumpkin, I promise nothing weird will happen to your great uncle Stan, all right?" He looked away for a second, then looked back. "Well, nothing weirder than usual," he said, grinning. He held up his hand. "Do you want to pinky promise?"

She nodded and crawled onto his lap and Stan curled his pinky finger around her much smaller one. "There. Are ya feelin' better now?" He ruffled her hair again and picked the remote up to turn on the TV. "Wanna watch some good old public access TV?"

She nodded, easing up. And seeing it is Mabel we're talking about, she soon got sucked into whatever silly show was running.

 Stan inwardly sighed in relief. Truth be told, he had no clue if what happened in the forest would be in any way significant, but he was not about to make anyone worry about him if it wasn't absolutely necessary.

Besides, it probably _was_ nothing anyway. Just a dumb statue that broke down. Happened every day. He forced it to the back of his mind and instead laughed with Mabel at the TV.

 

 All while the rest of the family gathered to just have some fun in front of the TV, Ford inspected the remains of the statue some more, unable to puzzle together why it had just fallen apart like that when Stan had touched it. He’d touched it too, but nothing like that had happened. It nagged at him as he walked back to the Shack.

Stan turned his head towards him when Ford walked back inside. "Sixer!" he laughed cheerfully, the earlier incident seemingly off his mind already. "Join us! Ducktective is about to shoot his evil twin!"

"I'm still not convinced that's Ducktective," Dipper said, hanging upside down from the couch, chewing on a pen.

"Oh my, really?" Ford chuckled lightly at the scene. He sat down on the ground next to the couch and asked Dipper about his train of thought.

Dipper let himself fall off the couch and eagerly sat right up. "He's been acting subtly different all season!" he said enthusiastically. "I'm thinking it's either an impostor or mind control!"

"That seems far-fetched," Stan said from the couch.

"Well, with the twist of the Duck-Tective already having a secret evil twin, it wouldn't be too farfetched if they would come with something like mind control," Ford shrugged.

"When did you get so invested in a kids show, Sixer?" Stan grinned from the couch. "I’ll tell you all, it's not gonna be that deep! Sure, Ducktective might've had a trick or two up his sleeve, but he's not gonna turn out to be some kind of evil jerk!"

"Well, Mabel helped fill me in." Ford nudged his niece who started to giggle. "And well, I think I could use some more mindless entertainment."

"Hah! Don't we all," Stan laughed. "Glad to see yer lightening up again, Sixer!" He was momentarily distracted when Ducktective did shoot his brother in the chest. "Well, how about that," he muttered.

Dipper leaned against Ford's arm. They watched the show till its end, and ordered pizza in the meantime. Finally, Stan stretched his arms and yawned.

"Heh, someone's growing tired" Mabel laughed, before admitting a small yawn herself.

"I'm an old man, sweetie," Stan said. "I need my beauty sleep. I don't have much else goin' for me." He stood up. "Soos, how'd you figure the sleepin arrangements? I'm guessing my old bedroom is taken by you two lovebirds." He pointed between Soos and Melody.

The two awkwardly laughed, not meeting each other’s gaze as they blushed. "Well, we managed to still have the kids crash in the attic, while you and Ford, uh, sorta have to sleep down in the basement or share a room with my grandma," Soos said, clearly a bit awkward about the limited space they had. "Sorry about that."

Stan looked over at Ford. "Whaddaya say, Sixer? Basement or Soos' grandma? I personally vote basement. Lotsa good memories down there."

Ford scoffed. With a shrug, he said: "Yeah, sounds like the better idea." With that, Soos basically jumped up, saying he would take care of it right away.

"Don't hurry, Soos," Stan called after him. He leaned forward in his chair.

"So! Melody! Soos' better half! It's good to finally meet ya in person kid. Any grandkids on the way yet?"

If she would have been drinking something, she would have spat it out. Instead, she was just stammering. "Ah, I don't, uh, don't think we're ready for that yet,” which shortly after turned into inaudible mumbling as she pulled her knees up and tried to hide the mad blush on her face.

Mabel's voice started rising in tone. "Ohmygosh, your kids would be adorable. Could I be the godmother? Pleasepleaseplease!"

Stan laughed loudly and pushed Melody in the shoulder. "Hah! I've always wanted to be on the giving end of that question."  He winked at her. "Probably smart for you kids to wait till after the wedding, am I right?" He laughed again and wiped away a tear. "But seriously, I'm glad you two are makin' each other happy."

"T-thanks," she chuckled lightly, still brightly red. "Soos is a good man."

"Sure is! Fine employee too! An' I'm sure he will make a great _dad_ one day too," Stan said, winking again. Dipper pushed against his knee. "Shut up, grunkle Stan."

"But he's right though, Dipping Dops," Mabel giggled, Melody awkwardly joining her.

"Of course I'm right!" Stan proclaimed. "I'm always right!" He shifted in his chair. "I'm also right when I'm sayin' it's getting real late for you kids, and when Soos finishes readying our beds, it's bed time for you two too."

 Both kids groaned and Mabel started to beg Stan to stay up a little longer, since her sugar levels were too high for her to go to bed now.

Stan put Mabel on the ground. "Just walk it off, pumpkin. I'm sure once you hit the hay, you'll be gone in no time." He grinned. "I've seen you kids yawning throughout the last parts."

"No way, I'm gonna-" Mabel said, interrupted by a yawn as she started to curl up on the floor "-stay up forever.” And with that, she started to nap.

Stan picked her up and hung her over his shoulder. He gestured to Dipper. "C'mon, I'm getting you kids upstairs." Dipper protested lightly, but got up too and followed Stan up. Stan put Mabel on her bed. "You make sure yer sister brushes her teeth and such," he said to Dipper, who smiled and did a quick salute.

 

Just as he came down the stairs again, Ford and Soos were already on their way bringing their stuff to their bedroom in the basement and Stan joined them in the elevator. He nudged Soos in the side as soon as the doors closed. "Soos, yer fiancé is a real catch. You make sure ya get that hook line and sinker all right?"

"Ah, sure thing Mr. Pines!" Soos said, blushing, but smiling.

Ford also laughed along. "Don't you think you have tortured those two enough for tonight?"

"Hah! Never!" Stan laughed too, putting his arm around Soos again. "When am I ever gettin' the opportunity to embarrass the young lovers again? Soon, they'll be married and such and there'll be nothing to embarrass anymore! I gotta take my only opening!"

Soos chuckled, letting his own arm rest on Stan's shoulder.

They arrived at the second level where there was enough space for the beds and Soos left the two to their privacy.

Knowing Ford, he would probably read a little more before he would go to bed, but Stan sat down on his pile of pillows and blankets on the mattress. He was feeling weirdly exhausted, considering his relatively low energy expenditure that day.

"I'm just gonna turn in, Sixer," he said, laying down. "Good night."

"Night night" Ford said, a bit absent minded as he already flew through the first book of the evening.

\------

\------

\------

Stan opened his eyes.

To find himself sitting at the kitchen table in the Shack.

He frowned a bit confused and scratched his hair.

Suddenly, blue flames started licking at the underside of the table and when Stan turned around, he noticed the kitchen cabinets were on fire too, along with most of the walls, the wall paper scaling off in the heat. He looked back again and found the entire kitchen was just ablaze around him. The fire didn't seem to hurt him though, so he just kept sitting on his chair and leaned on the table.

He was shaken up when a long, breathless groan echoed through the Shack's walls, a faint golden glow appeared in the corner of the door, coming from the living room.

Stan's chest immediately filled with an all too familiar terror. He jumped off his chair and slammed the door to the living room shut, trapping himself in the burning kitchen. "NO!" he yelled to whatever the source of the sound was. "Leave me alone!"

The outlines of a hand in a glowing golden color phased through the door like it was nothing. It was distorted and blurry, but for what details were visible, it was torn and broken and a few figments were peeling off of it onto the floor. A moment later, the demon known as Bill Cipher pressed himself through the door in an agonizing wheeze. A few of his bricks were hanging from his figure to show a few sharp teeth and his gaze was downcast as he entered and caught his breath. Once he was done, he looked up, a mix of rage and astonishment dancing within the veiny eyeball as he just kept staring at Stan

 "Goddammit!" Stan swore loudly. "Sixer's gonna kill me!" He took one step back and pointed at Bill, his finger only trembling slightly. "Listen up you jerk! I don't know what you're doing in my mind! But like hell am I just gonna take it!" He swung his arm back, and punched Bill as hard in the eye as he could.

Bill didn't even flinch or move, only breathed out, before he started to cackle. That cackling soon turned into that insane laughter which was even more bone chilling in how weak, raspy and ever so slightly distorted it was.

Stan looked slightly panicked at his fist. "That worked like a charm last time!" he stammered dismayed. He pressed his hands against his ears. "Shut up!" he yelled, then started punching Bill with both fists repeatedly. "Shut up! Shut up!"

"Oh I can't believe I'm back," Bill chuckled, not even attempting to dodge the attacks."Great Axolotl be thanked."

Stan stopped his attack and caught his breath. The kitchen around them was still burning. "Like hell you are," he mumbled, "You're in MY mind. I'll just get Sixer to erase you again."

Bill laughed again, although it wasn't as manic as before. "Oh hell you won’t, Stan." With a snap, everything in the kitchen vanished, making both float in the infinite of space. Bill went quiet, his eye rolling from side to side as if he was thinking.

Stan kicked his legs in surprise when the kitchen vanished. He grabbed a few times for Bill uselessly, then crossed his arms in annoyance as they floated across from each other.

 "I'm not gonna make a deal with ya, if that's what yer thinkin’,” he said finally. "You might be in my head, but I can ignore ya. Yer just another annoying voice to add with the others."

"I don't think I’ll be needing another deal!" Bill said brightly after a minute of looking at his arm, which had fell apart to the bone after making the kitchen vanish, figments of flesh and skin still floating around the exposed bone.

 “For god sakes man, clean yerself up a little will ya? Yer not exactly easy on the eyes like this," Stan said, averting his eyes. “And what do you mean, you don’t need another deal?”

"In due time," Bill said as he started to fade, only a very light chuckle admitting from his throat.

 “ _In due time_.”

And just like that, he faded away, gone like he had appeared.

\---------

Stan opened his eyes and sat up with a startled shout in the darkened basement. He took a moment to catch his breath and pressed his hands against his eyes.

 "I hate cryptic bullshit," he murmured.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snail: Stan, sitting at the kitchen table: "THIS IS FINE."  
> Artist: OH GODDAMMIT I KNEW IT!


	4. The Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford is paranoid, Stan dodges the issue and the kids get underestimated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay everyone! 
> 
> In this chapter I play Stan and Dipper  
> Artist plays Ford and Mabel

Stan was still breathing heavily, when suddenly his brother began stirring next to him and rolled over. He reached for his glasses as he sat up. "Stan? What's going on?"

 Stan rubbed his hair, catching his breath. "Nothing," he said on reflex, "just a dumb dream."

He lied down again and tried closing his eyes, but his heart was still beating fast. He sighed  and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Actually, Sixer-" he began, then trailed off into silence, staring into the darkness.

"Hm?" Ford grumbled, who’d  almost fallen asleep again as soon Stan had lied down. "What is it, Stanley?"

“First, ya gotta promise me you won’t freak out,” Stan said.

“ _What is it, Stanley?”_  Ford turned around immediately, but was met with silence. “Fine, I’ll promise,” he said a little irritated.

Stan sat up again in the bed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So! It's probably no big deal or anythin' and I definitely  don't want ya blabbin' to the kids about it…-” he started, then lowered his voice, “-but I just kind of had a dream with, uh, you know,  that triangle jerk in it a little." He turned to Ford. "Again, no big deal. No big deal, I just…I thought ya might wanted to know."

Ford snapped awake as he sat up fully as well. "What?!" he asked, a bit dumbfounded by this sudden mention from his brother.

Stan stared back at him for a second, before he let himself fall back on the bed again and turned around. "Forget I said anything!" he said. "It was nothing! Probably. Who said anything? I've been sleeping this entire time!"

"Stan, that certainly is not ‘nothing’," Ford said, standing up, and started to pace through the room. "First the statue collapsing like it did and now this? I mean, what did he tell you?"

Stan groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. "Ugh, this was a mistake.  Don't know why I said anything to begin with, yer blowing this outta proportion!" He was silent for a moment and weighed his options. Ford was not likely to calm down unless he told him _something_ about the dream. "He said some dumb stuff about an axolotl," he mumbled finally. It seemed non-incriminating enough.

"Axolotl?" Ford said, standing still. "Just what does _that_ mean?" Stan shrugged his shoulders noncommittally and Ford let out a sigh. "I'm sorry for losing it like this, Stanley. You know  I still get paranoid about these things." With that, a yawn escaped his mouth and he rubbed his eyes before continuing. "I’m going to look up anything useful I can find about axolotls right now ." He marched to his old study books and pulled several of them out and put them on his desk.

“Sixer…” Stan said tiredly. “Please. Can this wait ‘till the morning? I promise ya you won’t find anything about sea critters that’s gonna be any use at three AM.”

Ford hesitated.

“Just ‘till the mornin’.  Try to get some sleep.”

Ford got up with a sigh and climbed back into the bed. “This is not over,” he warned. With that, he lay back down and after some consideration, wished his brother a decent sleep, forcing himself to not worry too much about this recent development.

Stan stared at the ceiling in the dark. He was pretty sure he would not be able to fall asleep again tonight. Not that he particularly desired to. Seeing Cipher in his mind had freaked him out more than he cared to admit. "Sleep tight, Sixer," he mumbled.

 

 The next day, Ford woke up earlier than usual. He had already basically inhaled four cups of coffee when he started scrolling through the records of his past adventures from when he was dimension hopping to find what that axolotl talk was all about.

Stan got up too. He'd fallen asleep anyway at some point in the night, but thankfully hadn't had any more dreams. Preparing a cup of coffee for himself in the kitchen, he tried to convince himself that the dream had just been due to an overactive imagination. It was mildly successful. Still, he figured, taking a sip, if Cipher was really somewhere in his head, he should at least feel different, probably. But he didn't really feel that different at all, bar the slightly stressed out feelings.

 After a while, Ford came in the kitchen too to get himself another mug. He hadn’t noticed Stan getting up from their bed, so he was surprised to see him there. Although he supposed it was rather good timing, since he had a few questions to ask him anyway."Ah, Stanley. Good to see you,” he said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I've been wondering if anything... peculiar happened since last night?"

"Nope. Nothing apart from some pesky triangle suddenly showing up in my dreams of course." Stan downed his scalding hot coffee, then stuck his tongue out. "Ow ouch! Why did I do that?"

"S-Stan, you okay?" Ford jumped lightly, his mind already racing with twenty different ways to restrict a demon-possessed twin brother.

Stan, meanwhile, patted his tongue with his hand. "I'm fine. Ouch though!" He shrugged and put his cup down. "That's what I get for not keepin' my head with what I'm doin'," he chuckled.

Ford let out a sigh, but subtly checked for a hint of yellow in his brother’s eyes. They seemed completely normal and Ford allowed himself to relax some more, feeling a bit silly for reacting so strongly.

 "Morning,'" Mabel yawned as she came into the kitchen. She opened the fridge to get some Mabel Juice.

 "Mornin' sweetheart," Stan grinned.

Dipper followed Mabel into the kitchen. He plopped down into one of the chairs. "It's too early," he announced, before resting his head on his arms.

 "Mornin’ sunshine," Stan said dryly.

"What has gotten you kids up this early?" Ford asked, curious really. From what he recalled from last year, the kids usually slept longer than this.

Dipper lifted his forehead slightly from his arms. "Mabel woke me up. Believe me, this was not what I had planned for my morning."

Raising an eyebrow, Ford directed the question to Mabel. She just shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. Actually, I think I woke up somewhere during the night already." With a shudder she said: "It was like someone was watching me."

"You're in Gravity Falls, sweetie. Of course someone was watching you!" Stan said unbothered. "Probably Larry King's decapitated wax head from the vents again, unless Soos got that situation cleared out. Otherwise, smart money's on the gnomes."

 "No... I’m certain it wasn't that," Mabel mumbled, shaking her head.

"How can ya be so certain sweetie?" Stan said rummaging through the cabinets, "Did ya get a picture?" He pulled out a pan. "And on an unrelated note! Who wants pancakes?"

Mabel shuddered again. "I would like some," she said quietly.

Stan gracefully pun the pan on the stove. "Well, then you're in luck, cause yer great uncle is makin' some!" He whistled as he cracked some eggs in a bowl and started whisking it.

"Honestly Mabel, tell us what you think watched you?" Ford directed the conversation back to his rather distressed looking niece.

"I... it felt like it was last year again, like the window was watching us." Before either of the guys could react, she tried to shrug it off with a laugh. "Probably just my silly Mabel imagination!"

Stan poured milk in the bowl and started whisking again. "Aw, don't be so hard on yourself pumpkin. There's nothing wrong with a healthy imagination. Maybe it's because of these old surroundings! Who knows!"

"Maybe," she mumbled, joining Dipper at the table and leaning her head on his shoulder, clearly still distressed.

Stan stopped whisking for a moment. "Hey what happened to my brave little girl? C'mon are you gonna get some dream get to you?" He made a head movement to Ford. "Ford, tell her she's got nothing to be scared of."

"Uh, there really isn't," Ford said, a bit nervous.  "There’s nothing in the windows. Certainly not Bill Cipher! We beat him last year, he’s gone and not looking from anywhere and  he certainly can no longer  do any harm to us-"

  _"Yet"_

 A voice rang through the kitchen. A small hush really, yet loud enough to be audible.

Stan, who’d just been about to elbow his brother in the chest for rambling on,  spasmed his hands and dropped his bowl on the floor with a loud clunk, the batter flying in all directions and collecting in a pool on the floor . He turned around, but his family was not looking like they just heard an ominous voice whisper though the kitchen. They _were_ all staring at him. "Whoops, butterfingers," he said rather lamely. "Sorry kids, I'll go clean this mess. Order pizza or somethin'. My treat!" With that, he power walked out of the kitchen.

Ford and the kids exchanged worried looks, Ford really very seriously considering whether or not to fill them in on the recent events. Instead, he decided to follow his brother. "Stan," he said, coming after  him, "you're acting awfully suspicious!"

Stan turned around sharply. "OH! _AM I_?!" He looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then pulled Ford closer. "I'm _worried_ Ford. First that whole statue thing,  now Mabel is seeing things in the window? _Maybe_ now is not the best time to criticize my acting skills."

Ford sighed  and looked away. "I know." He paused when he looked back towards the kitchen. "Do you think it would be good to tell them now? They've dealt with Bill alongside us."

Stan looked at the kitchen too. "I don't want to make ‘em needlessly worried before anything is confirmed. They're kids Stanford, they deserve a summer that _isn't_ ruined by the forces of evil for once."

"Fine," Ford sighed, "but as soon as something major happens, we're going to tell them."

" _Duly noted._ "

This time the voice clearly came from within Stan's head. He pressed a fist against it. "Shut up!" he groaned.

"Excuse me?" Ford asked confused, but Stan just looked at him a bit guilty. It took another few moments before it clicked. "He’s talking to you? How the-what’s he saying?"

Stan groaned in frustration. "Some ominous bullshit. Not worth repeatin’ really. Can ya be sure it's really him though? Maybe someone is playing an elaborate prank on us."

"Well, I’m not a mind reader, Stanley," Ford said in that awful lecturing tone. "You're the one with him in your mind and as long as Bill stays there, there is no chance I can tell for sure unless he shows himself."

" _Maybe_! I'm the one with him in my mind _maybe_!" Stan corrected him. He paced around the room. "What happened to you bein' a frigging genius, Sixer? Come up with a solution already!”

"Hm, I suppose I could see if I get my mindreading machine working again. It’s still there in my study," Ford said after a short pause.  “It’s a machine. It’s different,” he said after Stan shot him a look.

 "Of course ya already own a mind reader. Of course," Stan mumbled. “I’m not even surprised.” He pulled a hand though his hair. "Ford, I hate this," he confessed, "I just want whatever this is to be over with."

Ford gave his brother a nod. "We'll get through this. I promise." He held out a hand for him to shake, his face showing a smile to encourage Stan.

Stan smiled a small smile at him in reply. "Get that filthy thing outta my sight," he said, holding up his hand. "High six?"

Ford couldn't help but chuckle and held up his hand, repeating after his brother. “High six.”

Stan grinned at his brother and squeezed their hands together for just a second, then turned around. "All right, let's go an' clean up that mess in the kitchen."

 

In the kitchen, they  found that Mabel and Dipper had already started. "Oh, hey," Mabel said once she noted the two getting in, "We were worried, but when we heard you argue, we decided to start cleaning maybe."

"We weren't arguing, sweetheart. Just a bit of grown up talk." Stan said, looking at Ford. "Right?"

"Uh, yes. No need to worry, kids," he said and Mabel seemed to come a little at ease at the words, but Dipper was quick to question. "What were you two talking about anyways?"

"What part of 'grown up talk' didn't ya understand kid?" Stan grumbled, bending down to assist in cleaning up.

 Dipper sat up and crossed his arms. "Dangit Stan! We're teenagers!"

"It’s fine, really,” Ford said suddenly. “ Just some flashbacks to those skunk apes. Right, Stan?"

Stan grinned relieved, tension leaving his shoulders. "Yeah. Nasty bastards."

 Dipper looked between his two great uncles, particularly at Ford. "Fine," he said finally. He tugged on Mabel’s sleeve. "We'll get to the bottom of this," he whispered.

 She nodded to her brother. Something was clearly wrong and she wanted to get to the bottom of this just as much as him.

 "Whelp, I'm going to continue going over my research. Also, I might call Fiddleford over later. See ya kids!" Ford said as he left the room.

Stan watched his brother leave the room. "And I...am... gonna... uh," he trailed off. "Sheesh, there's nothing to do around here with Soos in charge. I'm gonna watch some TV." He walked out of the kitchen too.

Once they were out of the room, Mabel turned to Dipper.  "What do you think they're hiding, bro bro?" she whispered.

Dipper opened his journal and put it on the table. He put a pen in his mouth and started chewing. "Clearly it's important enough for grunkle Ford to start lying to us too." He added it to the page. He thought for a moment then underlined the words 'SECRET TRIPLETS?!?!' again.

"Come on, Dipper, a secret triplet thing? Doesn’t that seem like much of a stretch?" Mabel said, reading over her brother’s shoulder.

"I don't know Mabel," Dipper said, "I mean, grunkle Stan kept great uncle Ford a secret for half the summer last year too. Heck! He kept him a secret for thirty years! Would another brother really be that much of a stretch?" He wrote the word 'STANNINGTON?' under his notes.

"True... I guess?" Mabel mumbled, before enthusiastically hitting Dipper on the shoulder. "What if they got us some magical pet and don't know how to present it to us yet?"

Dipper nodded and chewed on his pencil again. "I'll write it down," he said, writing 'SURPRISE PET?' next to the other notes. He pointed at Mabel. "Maybe they joined a cult!" He wrote down  'CULT MEMBERS?' in his journal.

While the two were spending quite some time on theorizing what was going on, Ford continued to look into what "Axolotl" could mean, and arranged for later in the afternoon have McGucket over to help repairing the mind reader. He just wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with Stan, similarly to the twins.

Stan, watching TV, also wanted to know what was going on, on some level. On another level, however, he had an instinct feeling telling him that he might not like the answer to that question. In the end, the only thing he really desired was for this whole thing to go away.

 

That night, Stan was brushing his teeth in preparation to go to bed. "Doin' nothing productive all day was a riot, but tomorrow I'm gonna ask Soos if I can take a shift or two tourin'," he said after spitting. He turned around to face Ford. "Any progress on the, uh, situation?"

"Yes in fact!" Ford said with a smile. "With Fiddleford, work got a lot faster on the mind reader at least. The guy's a genius with technology. Although, I couldn't find out anything more about an axolotl. Maybe I’ll try to summon an old friend who might know more about that tomorrow.”

"Great. Well, I’m glad to hear someone  knows what they're doing at least." Stan walked towards the mattress on the floor. "Don't ya think ya might be blowing the whole axolotl thing outta proportion though? There was lots of cryptic shit in that dream. Might as well have been utter nonsense."

"Knowing Bill, it likely isn't. He has been throwing hints in cryptic statements ever since he fooled me," Ford sighed, remembering those times. "It might not appear as much, but it might mean an awful lot."

Stan pulled the blankets over himself.

 "Yeah. Or it doesn't. Let's just focus on gettin' him outta the noggin. Ask Fiddlesticks to build another memory gun or whatever."

"Already on that," Ford chuckled lightly. "Everything will be alright soon."

"It better be," Stan mumbled and soon, he could feel himself slipping away into sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist: "Daw, precious old people."  
> Snail: "Yeah <3"  
> Artist: "NOW LETS BRING ON THE PAIN ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o)"


	5. Nighttime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan has a bad time, Ford tries to be a good brother and Dipper does some investigative journalism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I play Stan and Artist plays the rest of the characters. 
> 
> Also Artist drew a nice visual ref for what Bill looks like at this point in time: http://iwillend.deviantart.com/art/Bill-643317122?ga_submit_new=10%253A1477964302
> 
> Check it out! (we do our own fan art)

Stan had hoped for a dreamless night, but the first thing he saw, when he opened his eyes again, was a yellow triangle surrounded by pitch black nothingness.  Slowly, a star filled night sky started stretching out infinitely around him. It looked almost exactly like the space his dream had ended in the day before, but the entire place seemed to be filled by pieces of wood, ranging from tiny splinters to whole planks, that were slowly moving around though the air. Most of them appeared torn and broken and burnt, a few still even smoking a little, and some of them had pieces of torn green wallpaper attached to them that Stan could swear he recognized.

 Bill himself was floating in the middle of it all, looking almost just as broken as the wood around him, although his previously torn arm seemed to have healed overnight. He appeared to be mumbling something to himself, but all Stan could make out was: "…almost seventy years."

"Ugh, this again." Stan crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. After a while, he put his hands to his mouth. "Hey, triangle jerk!" he yelled. "I'm gonna leave now! Go sit in a puddle or somethin'!" He started walking away, or at least tried doing so. Being in space made the issue more complicated than he anticipated.

Bill, meanwhile, seemed to snap out of his daze and turned around. "Oh, but I would like to talk" he said,"It's been so lonely being dead for almost seventy years."

Stan continued making walking motions in space until it started to become very apparent he was not exactly moving forward and he reluctantly turned around. "Listen, I hate to inform ya, an' I wanna make very clear that I'm referring to the fact that I'm talkin' to yer dumb triangle butt at all, but it's only been one year since I punched the lights outta you."

Bill chuckled.  "Oh, if only your tiny human brain could understand..."

"At least I got depth perception, you one eyed fuck!" Stan snapped, pointing a finger. "If I wanna get insulted on my brain size, I'll just have a regular nightmare, thank you very much."

"Haha, well how is THIS for an appropriate nightmare?" Bill laughed, as his shape starting to shift into that of Mabel. It wasn't perfect though: the skin was a sickly greenish color and looked jagged and torn, like a copse that had been deceased for a while.

Stan frowned. "That's sick. Get yer hands off my grand niece, you creep." He crossed his arms. "Listen, ya might be able to scare my brother with those cheap tricks, but yer lookin' at the original Mr. Mystery. I _invented_ cheap tricks."

"Oh _did_ you now?" Bill sneered as Mabel, tearing at her flesh until it fell apart. "I know, I know, this isn’t my usual standard either, but I promise this should all soon become more interesting." He reverted back to his original triangle shape.

Stan shielded his eyes with his hand until Bill was done. "Ugh, gross," he complained. "I don't want more interesting.” He looked around.  “Can I opt outta this? I don't even get why yer harassing me. All I did was touch your dumb statue."

"You mean you still don't get it?" Bill asked, sounding almost genuinely surprised.   

Stan balled his fists. "No!” he burst out, “I don't get it! Do I look like a guy who's gettin’ it? All I'm gettin’ is that yer some kinda space demon that felt the need to plant his butt in my head!” He rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “What is it with you supernatural folks and yer penchant for riddles? I'm a good guy, mostly, I don't deserve this!"

Bill rolled his eye. "Then let me enlighten you," he said and suddenly they found themselves in the burning living room of the shack. They looked back and the door behind them slammed close. In a chair, a large Stan made a finger gun at them and laughed.

The real Stan looked around, disoriented, but then a look of recognition spread over his face. "Oh all right, I remember this. Good times!" He chuckled. "Not so much for you though."

"Agreed," Bill said as he suddenly faded. The bigger Stan got up from his chair and stepped forward. He pointed at Stan and started talking. Stan stared up at his own face and felt a sense of dread he didn’t even know existed and before he knew it, he started pleading for his life. Suddenly a string of gibberish left his lips and echoed through the room.  The only thing Stan could make out in the echoes was a faint whisper.

_That I may return…_

-before Stan got hit in the face by his bigger doppelganger and felt his _body_ shatter.

He screamed and screamed until his throat felt raw and then

there was nothing but darkness surrounding him.   

There was a sudden flash of light a Stan caught a short glimpse of a large silhouette of a big round head with what seemed to be antlers, but before he could get a good look there was another round of darkness.

"It was dark for so long," Bill's voice cut through the silence. The darkness around Stan felt as if it was moving and turning around him.  "Dark, but warm and comforting. And then...-" As he paused, a light appeared and Stan started floating towards it. He shielded his eyes with his hand against the blinding light. In his ear he could faintly hear Bill’s voice finish his sentence, "...I was reborn."

Stan abruptly pulled his hand off his eyes and turned around. "So?" Stan yelled at the empty darkness, a feeling of terror sinking in his stomach, "I don't care what happened to ya after I killed ya! Stop telling me! I don't care!" He pressed his hands against his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.

He abruptly stilled and suddenly the darkness cracked and shattered into pieces. When Stan opened his eyes, he was face to face again with the triangle, back where they had started, floating between the stars. Bill had his fist pressed against his forehead and was breathing heavily.  "You'll... You'll figure out...  soon enough," he managed to heave, between coughs. His eye was bloodshot again and a few bricks seemed to have come loose during it all and were slowly floating away from him.  

"I ain't figuring out anything,” Stan grumbled.” Ya made one mistake though.” He reached his arm out to touch Bill. "You got yerself into my punch range." With that he pulled his arm back and brought it back to Bill’s face with all his might, but as soon as his fist reached Bill’s surface, Stan's eyes snapped open and stared up at the darkened ceiling of the basement of the Mystery Shack.

He immediately covered his mouth with his hands and quietly yelled into them until he was sure no more sound was coming out. He breathed heavily against his hands and closed his eyes and then sat up. There was no way he was gonna sleep again anytime soon. He threw his covers off and stood up.

"Going anywhere?" Bill's voice sounded raspy, clearly still exhausted.

Stan froze.  "Hey! I'm awake now!" he yelled to the ceiling, "Ya got no right to still be harassing me!" Suddenly a bout of dizziness came over him and he fell backwards in one of the chairs. He groaned and held his head in his hands.

 

“Mhm…Stanley?”

Sounds of blankets rustling came from the bed and Ford reached for his glasses on the night stand and put them on.  “Why are you-“ He noticed his brother almost collapsing and cut himself off, all of the irritation from having been awoken suddenly vanished. He stumbled out of bed and rushed to his brother’s aid.

He kneeled down next to Stan’s chair. “What happened?”

 Stan didn’t look his brother in the eye and said nothing, instead opting to keep breathing in and out into his hands. “Bad dream,” he said finally.

"Okay, come here, be careful,” Ford said as he helped Stan to his bed. He set him down and checked his pulse and temperature. He might not have been an expert in the medical field, but he knew some basic skills, so he was not about to let that minor detail stop him.

Stan let his brother's medical attention happen to him without protesting much, although he did sputter a bit when Ford suddenly shone a bright light in his eyes. He swatted his brother’s hand away. "It's still me, Sixer," he muttered.

"Sorry," Ford said, unconvincingly.  "I just had to be certain." After a short pause, he asked:  " You're awfully pale, Stanley. Tell me what’s wrong."

“Three guesses," Stan mumbled. He pressed the underside of his hand palms against his eyes. "This is awful. I don't know how ya did it, Sixer, all those years ago.”  He looked up at Ford. “Can ya fix me up with one of those double strong caffeine pills I know you got lying around?"

"Sure," Ford shrugged, before going to get a few. He sighed as he joined his side again. "Honestly, I barely remember how I managed to do it."

Stan grabbed two pills and swallowed them dry. He leaned his head against Ford's shoulder. "I feel terrible," he said, "like someone knocked the wind right outta me, then put me through a mangle, then knocked me out again and then left me to rot in an abandoned warehouse. It wasn't so bad when it was just the voices."

"Oh dear," Ford mumbled, "he's growing stronger." He stood up immediately, and Stan had to quickly put an arm out to prevent himself from falling sideways down on the bed.  “I’ll get back on working on the mind reader right now and hopefully I’ll be able to plan out some ideas on how to limit his moving space within your mind.”

Stan sat back up and rubbed his arm. "Yeah...thanks bro," he mumbled. He got up from the bed too and put on his dressing gown. Despite the pills he still felt kinda exhausted. "I'm gonna go an kill some brain cells by watching the 3 am programming of Gravity Falls public access TV."

 

When the doors of the elevator opened upstairs, Stan could hear sounds coming from the kitchen and sighing he made his way over to investigate.

As soon as he stepped inside, he saw a bunch of gnomes raiding the fridge. He made eye contact with one that was just about to put a spoonful of leftover chili con carne in its mouth. The gnome stared back, caught in the spotlight. Stan stared back too. The little staring contest went on for several seconds, until the gnome slowly brought the spoon to his mouth and took a bite. Stan grabbed the broom standing next to the doorway and held it up. "I have a broom and I won't hesitate to use it," he grumbled.

"Hey, now hold on." One of the gnomes stepped forward, apparently the leader, Stan never recalled his name. “There’s no need for violence, we, heh, just came to get a little snack." He chuckled nervously, as he searched for confirmation that he was right.

"I still wonder what gnome meat tastes like," Bill's voice rang suddenly in Stan's ears.

"Stress will make 'em chewy," Stan replied out loud without thinking. He frowned and knocked his head with his free hand. "You shut your yap!" he yelled. He opened his eyes and refocused on the gnomes. He waved his broom at them. "You gnomes get outta here or I'll have YOU for a little snack!" he threatened.

The gnomes yelped and finally started scattering across the kitchen once Stan started to sweep after them and fled the building as fast as they could through various exits.

 "I know," Bill replied.

Stan ticked his finger on his head again. "The yap. Shut it," he grumbled. "I ain't interested in whatever ya got to say to me."

There was no response, but a gut feeling could tell Stan that he should be lucky the demon was still weak.

Stan shuddered. "Honestly, I should sue you for home invasion," he muttered out loud. "I mean, apart from all the logistics."

Again, there was no response, just exhausting emptiness.

Stan huffed. "Well. Good. I like ya better when you're silent." Without response, he started to feel a little silly taking to himself, so he shrugged and made his way to the TV.

 

 

He barely sat his butt down, when suddenly a voice came from the hallway. "Stan, what are you yelling about at three AM in the morning?" A clearly tired Dipper let out a yawn as he stepped through the doorway.

"Gnomes," Stan said simply as he pressed the remote. "Truly the worst part of this town." He looked at Dipper and raised an eyebrow. "What're you doing up at this time, kid?"

"You have a loud voice," Dipper said, yawning again. "And I’m not as much of a heavy sleeper as Mabel is."

Stan patted the couch next to him. "C'mon, let the soothing sounds of Willy Hays tryin' to sell ya a vacuum cleaner lull ya back to sleep."

"Sounds good." Dipper sat down next to Stan. It took a while before he asked: "Why are _you_ up this late?"

Stan shrugged casually. "Guess I'm still on Pacific Time. I ain't exactly a heavy sleeper either an' when I can't sleep I rather sit up here than lie next to Ford. That bastard can sleep through anything."

"…Okay," Dipper said, not completely buying what Stan said. Something about the statement seemed off. But before he could press the issue, Stan reached under the couch and pulled out a little blanket that he threw on Dippers lap. "Sorry for wakin' ya up though, kid," he mumbled.

"It's fine," Dipper said, covering himself in the blanket. Trying his best to stare at Stan without being noticed, he said: "Maybe Mabel and I can go talk with the gnomes tomorrow. We can take the leaf blower too." He offered it mainly because he wanted to see Stan's reaction, seeing whether the gnomes were a lie or not.

"Eh, don't bother," Stan said quickly. "Those guys are more persistent than ants. More annoying too. ‘Sides, ants don't got a creepy obsession with marryin' children."  The last thing he needed was the gnomes blabbering to the kids about what happened in the kitchen earlier.

"Hm... okay," Dipper said and decided to go talk to the gnomes first thing in the morning.

 Just then, Ford appeared from the doorway too. “Stan, could you…-“ Noting though Dipper was there as well, he died down. "How come you're awake, Mason?"

"Heard me yelling at the gnomes," Stan answered for Dipper. He raised an eyebrow at Dipper. "Since when are ya going by Mason again? Do ya want me to change yer fishing hat?"

"N-No," Dipper said, before Ford helped the boy out. "Don't worry Stan. I just like to call him by his first name rather than his nickname."

"I just wanna make sure I'm callin' the kid by his preferred name," Stan said. "Personally, I don't mind either way. They both suit ya."

"If you say so," Dipper shrugged. "But thanks, Grunkle Stan." With that, he gave Stan a playful punch on the shoulder.

Stan grinned. "All right, that was enough bein’ sappy." He lightly landed his fist on top of Dipper’s head. "It's three AM, ya twerp, time for sleeping." Ford nodded."He's right. It’s better for youngsters to sleep well, especially during such an important developmental stage in your life.”

With a groan, Dipper let himself fall off the couch. “Fine,” he mumbled and yawned as he walked out of the room and sat right down on the top of the stairs, where he could still overhear his grunkles mumble in the living room.

 Once Dipper was out if sight, Ford continued. "As I was saying, the mind reader should be ready soon. I’ll only need a bit more of Fiddleford's technology know-how and it should be done. Do you think you can wait that long?"

Stan shrugged. "Don't got much choice, don't I?" He waved his hand. "It'll be fine, Sixer. He's been shutting up anyway."

"Good to know," Ford sighed, sitting down on the armrest of the chair, his exhaustion catching up with him.

"Ya don't have to stay up with me, Sixer," Stan said. "I dug my grave and I'm lying in it. I don't wanna cause you all unnecessary hassle."

Ford sighed. "And I just want to help you. I’m worried about you, Stanley." The whole year up to this had really grown their bond and Ford now cherished Stan probably more than ever, not wanting to lose it.

Stan sighed too. "Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair. "It's appreciated. But really Sixer, yer doin’ a lot for my dumb ass already. The least I can do back is let you get yer rest."

"Maybe after a little TV," Ford insisted, despite the tone in his voice clearly showing how tired he was.

Stan gave him a bemused smile and held up the blanket Dipper had just been sitting under. "Wanna come sit on the couch with me?"

Ford gave him a small scoff.  "Sure." He sat down on the couch with his brother and immediately started dozing off.

Stan grinned tiredly at his sleeping brother. At least there was one less thing to feel guilty about.

 He wondered if it would be possible to never fall asleep again.

Whatever Bill was trying to tell him, he was very sure he didn't want to know it.  He just hoped it was possible to get rid of him before he could tell him anything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Stan could sue Bill for breaking and entering if he wasn't legally dead and Bill wasn't a trillion years old demon whose existence can't be proven and the location of entering wasn't Stan's head. Apart from that, I really think he's got a case.


	6. The Mindreader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan and Ford get the mind reader running and Dipper and Mabel venture into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: The Last Mabelcorn 2.0 
> 
> In this chapter I play Stan, Dipper and Mabel in the first parts  
> Artist plays Ford, Fiddleford, The gnomes, Mabel in the last part and Bill.

The next day, both pairs of twins got ready, the elderly ones to get the mind reader back running and the younger ones to start their journey back to the gnome part of the woods.

 "You ready Mabel?" Dipper asked her while they were getting ready in their room to sneak out.

"Haha, am I?" Mabel laughed as she packed her grappling hook. The twins looked at each other for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I am,” she said finally.

After they’d both packed their backpacks, the two silently made their way down the stairs and sneaked outside.

 

 Meanwhile, Stan, still sitting on the couch and very unaware of what the kids were up to, yawned and poked his sleeping brother awake. "Hey, what time's possum breath comin' over?"

Startling awake, Ford groaned as he took a look at the time. "He should be here in about five minutes."

Sure enough, once the younger twins stepped out the door on their way to the gnome village, they saw the old man coming up the driveway. "Oh hey there, ya'll" he laughed when he saw the two. "What crazy adventurin' are you two up to again?"

"Oh, you know us McGucket! We're always up to no good!" Mabel smiled. Dipper nodded. "We're just going to the forest. Are you here to help great uncle Ford with his... Oh, remind me, what was it again?"

"Ford asked me to help him rebuild that thingamajiks in his study with him," McGucket said, clearly way too enthusiastic and not remembering his promise of keeping it secret.

Dipper smiled at McGucket. "Ah yes, of course." He opened his journal and wrote "MIND READER?" underneath all the theories. He closed the journal and made eye contact with Mabel. "Well, I think we better go now."

"See ya children," Fiddleford laughed again before going his way towards the shack.

 "What's he talkin' about?" Mabel asked, as they walked off towards the woods.

 "I mean, it HAS to be the mind reader,” Dipper said with a thinking frown, "Remember? Last year, great uncle Ford tried to Bill-proof my mind with some kind of mind read machine. It, uh, it broke though. It has to be what McGucket is talking about! What else could it be? But why are they fixing it?"

Mabel shrugged, looking after the hillbilly. "This is weird," she mumbled, before shaking her head.

Dipper clicked his pen. "Also, I, uh, overheard Stan and Ford taking last night. Ford said he wanted to help Stan, but he said that 'he' was shutting up and something about a grave." He looked at Mabel again. "And that combined with the mind reader! What does it all mean?"

Mabel grew worried about Stan. "I dunno... I hope Stan is okay!"

 "Stan will be fine, right? He's always fine! He was even fine after Grunkle Ford shot him with the memory gun."

"I mean, yeah, eventually," said Mabel, "but just to be sure, once we get back home, I'm going to make him something nice. Do you think he would like a nice card?"

Dipper punched her playfully in the shoulder. "Hah, what would you write on it? ‘Sorry to hear about your mysterious problem that we're secretly investigating. PS: we hope you're not in a cult?' “

She laughed alongside him. "No duh! I was thinking of a little reminder we love him. Maybe I'll put extra glitter on it!” She put her hands in her sides. “No.” A gust of wind blew her hair back dramatically. “I’ll put double extra glitter on it.”

 

 While they were contemplating on more ideas how to cheer up Stan without giving themselves and their suspicions away, McGucket had long since arrived at the basement and him and Ford were about to finish the repairs on the mind reader.

 "Ah, perfect!" Ford cheered as the thing started running again, thanking his friend for his help before turning to his brother. "Now Stan, are you ready for this?"

 Stan had been nervously fidgeting with his thumbs while the two nerds were working on the machine and put his hands on the desk behind him with a bang when he was addressed. He was not feeling well: the strange exhaustion from last night had not cleared up much and the caffeine pills had left him jitterier than he cared for.

He looked at Ford. Truthfully, he wasn't ready at all. It was an unsettling situation to be in when the lesser evil of potential outcomes would be that he was just slowly going crazy. His brother was looking at him rather cheerfully though, so with a sigh he pushed himself off the desk he was leaning on and sat down on the machine's chair. "Let's just get this over with."

"Everything will be fine," Ford tried to calm his brother, noting how upset he was as he placed the helmet attached to the machine on his head. "You're free to go, Fiddleford." He addressed his friend, who loudly said his goodbye, spitting into a nearby bucket before leaving while whistling a cheerful tone. With their new privacy, Ford activated the machine. With a deep hum it started running and green text rapidly started flying over the screen.

 

Meanwhile, Dipper and Mabel were wandering towards the gnome part of the forest, Dipper leading the way and Mabel following suit. They stepped into the clearing, although there seemed to be nobody around. Dipper set his hands to his mouth. "Hey! Gnomes! We wanna talk to you!"

"Shmebulock..." Shmebulock rolled out of the bushes, clearly grumpy, before another gnome came out. "Come on, you better go back to bed," he said, just as grumpily and rolled him back in. With a yawn, this new gnome asked: "If that ain't the Pines twins. What do you want?"

Dipper pointed a finger. "Which ones of you were raiding our kitchen last night? There's a few things we'd like to know." Mabel conjured a bag of chocolate chip cookies from her bag and held it up. "AND we brought bribes! The gnome with the most useful information gets the bag!"

The gnome stared at the bag wide eyed for a few seconds, before screaming: "FOOD!” gaining the attention of more gnomes who quickly stormed around the legs of the twins, reaching for the bag with their tiny baby hands while begging them to give it to them.

Mabel held the bag up high above her head. "No! Nope! This bag is for the gnome that can tell us what happened in our kitchen last night." Dipper shuffled a few gnomes away from her with his foot. "That's right! No funny business or we dump the bag in the pond. So start talking!"

"Ugh, fine," Jeff said as he came forward, demanding another nearby gnome to lift him up. Getting each gnome to quiet down, he turned around and started to explain. "So, we came to your house last night to have some refreshments. What can we say, we ran out of food here and everyone is losing their mind over it.” To prove his point, all the gnomes repeated in almost perfect sync: "FOOD!" which Jeff had to calm down again.

Mabel rattled the bag with cookies threateningly. "You guys saw our grunkle Stan last night too, right? What'd he say to you?"

 "Anything weird? Something that stood out to you guys?" Dipper added, "Something he'd lie about later?"

Turning back to the twins, Jeff stroked his beard as he recalled the event. "He said something about how stress makes 'em chewy, and threatened to eat us, so that’s nothing unusual, but he did yell out of nowhere at some guy to shut it. None of _us_ had said anything, so hey; I guess that could be what you two are asking for!"

Mabel and Dipper looked at each other. "Do you think that's the same 'he' he was talking about when you were listening in last night?" Mabel asked. Dipper clicked his pen again. "It has to be! Mabel, do you think Stan's dealing with some kinda ghost? Maybe he's being haunted!"

Mabel held the bag over the group of gnomes. "Did anything else happen?"

"He chased us out with a broom," Jeff said, looking down in shame with his fellow gnome folk.

Mabel released the bag in the middle of the group. "Thanks!" she said brightly, then turned to Dipper. "But those do all sound like normal grunkle Stan things! Yelling at nothing can mean anything! Maybe we overreacted!"

Dipper pulled her away on her arm from the screeching gnomes who were all trying to get to the bag with cookies. Jeff let out a blood curdling scream. He seemed to be going for the eyes.

"But why would they keep it a secret from us?"

 

Back in the basement, the mind reader was up and running and all of Stan’s thoughts were displayed openly on the screen.  Some of the things Ford found had him avoid the screen with his eyes and just wonder what the hell his brother had been up to those ten years prior to the portal incident. Or really just in general when Stan was alone. Still, there was nothing there that was too out of the ordinary, nothing that didn’t seem like perfectly normal human brainwaves. Ford stared at the screen until his head started hurting and finally, after several hours, he said, with a sigh: "Apparently, paranoia got the better out of the two of us. There’s nothing here indicating a supernatural presence."

Stan turned his head all the way around to face the screen. "Nothin'? Nothing at all?" He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. "So I'm just losin' my mind after all," he sighed. He intended the remark to be humorous and if he hadn't been so exhausted, it might have sounded like that too. He rubbed his forehead. "Well, that was certainly something. I think I'm gonna nap now." He got up and stifled a yawn. "Can't believe I let some dumb dreams get to my head."

Just as he said that, from the corner of his eye, he could have sworn one of the lines showing his thoughts was a faint yellow instead of green. It read: “VWLOO QRW JHWWLQJ LW?”

Well, what the shit.

He certainly did not think anything like that just then. Before he could get an actual look at it, the letters disappeared. He glanced at Ford to see if he had also just seen that line on the screen. It seemed he hadn't. Before any other weird things could happen, he took the mind reader off his head and put it down a little too harshly  next to him.

Whatever Bill, or his own brain, was trying to tell him, he was very certain it would not be something anyone should ever know, especially the people he cared about. Especially not _Ford._

"Hm?" Ford said when he heard the mind reader helmet being placed down with a clunk. "Stan, are you alright?"

Stan waved a hand and got up. "Yeah yeah, I'm fine. Never been better. Bein' awake since 3's been kinda doing a number on me. I'm not as young as I used to be. And this, Ford -" he held up his hand to show it shaking slightly, "-this isn't healthy. You really shouldn't be taking that stuff anymore, all right?"

"Uh, okay," Ford said, so used to the stuff it barely had effect on him anymore, but for his brother’s sake he could pretend he was going to tone down on them. "Well, I'm gonna go through our collected data to make sure everything is as it should be. Feel free to do whatever you want."

Stan, who was just about to step through the door frame, turned around. "Going through the data?" he asked, startled. "You're gonna re-read all that junk that came from my dumb brain again? I thought you said there was nothing useful in there!"

"Better to be careful," Ford said, pressing some buttons, wanting to be extra certain everything would be safe.

Stan walked back into the room. "Well, can't let ya do all the work comin' from me bein' an idiot. I'll uh, I'll help. You can do the first part an' I'll go over the last parts."

"Stan, there really is no need," Ford said. "We've only been here for a few hours; there isn't much to go through." Rather instinctively, he stood between his brother and the machine, though he couldn't help but wonder if he was still paranoid as hell.

Stan rubbed a hand over his face. "Just let me help you, Ford. They're my thoughts after all." He took his hand off his face and stared at Ford. "I'm just tryin' to be a good brother. Can't you let me?" He made a conscious effort not to let his voice be agitated, and hoped the exhaustion in his voice sold it.

Ford felt conflicted, not sure if he should give in to his brother, especially after this year of having bonded with him quite well and his gut instinct telling him to not to. With a heavy sigh, he said: "It's fine Stanley. We have a whole summer to relax later on; I don't mind the little work."

Stan considered if he should press the issue further. If he would, it would definitely seem suspicious. If he wouldn't, on the other hand, there was a very real possibility that last line would be seen by Ford, which is something that Stan needed to avoid. He'd be forced to tell more details of the dreams he'd been having. Dreams he'd rather ignore. He sighed. "All right. Thanks for going through all the trouble, I guess." He reached out for Ford's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Suddenly, he lost his balance and threw the both of them against the machine, his shoulder breaking the glass. He groaned, and then looked at Ford. "Uh, oops?"

"What the-?" Ford yelled almost, pushing Stan of and trying desperately to see if the data had remained intact. It hadn’t, the screen had gone black. A small scream escaped his throat as he tried to find if he could do anything to restore it. It was clear though there wasn't anything, everything was lost. Ford barely got together a whole sentence as he almost tore some hair out of his scalp.

Stan got up quickly, ignoring a faint sound of laughter in his head. "Real tired, bad balance. Gonna lie down now. Uh, see ya!" He power walked out of the study and into the elevator and pressed a random button in order to get out of there as fast as possible to avoid the wrath of his brother.

Yeah, that had definitely been a bad idea, but desperate times called for desperate measures. When the door closed and he was out of Ford's earshot, he hissed: "I didn't do that for you, wise guy. I did it for me. And for them. In a way."

Bill chuckled from deep within Stan's mind. "And here I thought you learned a lesson about keeping these types of secrets from your family. You really do come after me."

 

Just before Stan could question what the hell the demon was talking about, he reached the gift shop and was greeted with a hug from Mabel. He stumbled back from the force of it and halfheartedly patted her on her hair. "Hey-y sweetie," he said, "what's gotten into you?"

"We, uh, noticed you were kinda off lately," she said, handing him an overly glittery card. "So I thought we’d try cheering you up!"

Despite everything, Stan couldn't help but smile at his grand niece as he took the card. On the front was a cute drawing of the whole family in a group hug with Stan in the middle and the inside had lots of hearts, signed by both Mabel and Dipper. Stan felt a pang of guilt looking at it. "Mabel, this is - this is...-". He sighed and smiled. "You're a real good kid, kid."

"You're welcome, Grunkle Stan," Mabel said gleefully, mastering to hide her worry just enough from him and went to hug him again.

"Wow, you _are_ bad at lying," Bill's voice rang in his ears again. "I'm sure she's aware that you're hiding something from her. Don’t forget things are gonna change soon!"

Stan ignored Bill as well as he could and hugged her back this time. "Thank you sweetie. I really appreciate it. I'll take it with me when Ford ‘n me get back to the sea."  He released her and patted her hair again. "All right, now your grunkle Stan needs to lie down for a bit." He spun back into the elevator that went to the basement. As soon as the doors closed, he faced the mirror on the side and pointed a finger at his image. "Things aren't gonna change at all, if I can help it. I got a good thing going on and I'm not about to let some nasal corn chip ruin it."

“Suit yourself," Bill said in his head.

Stan's shoulders made a light shrug in the mirror's image as he said it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eep


	7. Elevator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan and Ford discuss some important stuff. Bill also tries to discuss some important stuff, but everyone ignores him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! Also so sorry for this short chapter! University and depression have been taking turns kicking me in the ribs, so the editing took a little longer than expected. 
> 
> In this chapter I play Stan and Artist play Bill and Ford.

"Suit yourself," Bill said and Stan saw his own shoulders moving in a shrug in the mirror.

To say it was the most terrifying thing he’d ever witnessed might have been an over-exaggeration, but honestly?

  _Not by that much._

He yelled as he stumbled backwards, then took a  few moments to catch his breath and kept staring at his own startled face in the mirror. It didn’t change again.  

"Still with the cheap tricks, eh?" he muttered, closing his eyes. "But slight of the eye? That's-“ he shook his head,  “-that's new."

"Things are about to change soon, Stanley," Bill chuckled, faintly imitating Ford's voice. "It's going to be a lot of fun once it does."

"Yeah, you mentioned that," said Stan, "but you know what I think?" He pointed at his own mirror image again and felt a new rush of anger- how _dared_ that nacho get the jump on him? "I think you're all bark and no bite!"

"For now, you're right actually," Bill laughed. "But we'll see what it'll be like a few hours!"

Stan felt a faint pulling at his muscles that definitely came from within him, which was clearly attempting to pull his shoulders up again. He bristled and slammed his shoulder against the wall he was standing against. "Not my body, you space weirdo!"

 Suddenly he stopped and looked at his mirror image again.

"Wait did you say _hours_?"

Bill only laughed.

Stan slammed his hand on the stop button in the elevator. "Not on my watch, asshole. There's no way I'm givin' you direct access to the kids."

"Not like you can stop it," Bill said nonchalantly, before they were both distracted by Ford's voice sounding through the elevator door.

The elevator had stopped halfway down, bringing them to Ford's study again and through the little window in the elevator door, they could see him still hunching over the broken mind reader, mumbling some things Stan couldn’t quite make out, but that decidedly did not sound very polite.

 He looked up when Stan slammed his hand against the door to get his attention, his scowl quickly replaced with worry when he saw the state his brother was in.

"Ford!" Stan yelled, knocking on the glass of the door again. "I'm sorry! For everything! All of it."

His brother sighed, walking up to the elevator. "It’s fine, Stanley. Now, please tell me what is wrong. You look distraught."

Stan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ford, I need ya to promise me something. If I start bein' a danger to you, or the kids, I need you to straight up shoot me. Don't even hesitate, alright?"

Ford’s breath hitched in his throat.

_Familiar_

Barely getting his words together, he managed to get out: "W-What are you talking about?"

Stan put his fist on the glass. "What do ya think I'm talking about, genius? For a smart guy, you can be pretty dumb sometimes. Just promise it!"

"F-Fine, I promise," Ford said, raising his hands in defense.

Stan moved away from the door and sat down. "Good," he muttered. He took his beanie off and pulled a hand though his hair. "Listen, Ford, I'm sorry about before. I freaked out, okay? I didn't wanna know. But he's in here and he's getting stronger."

Opening the elevator doors, Ford joined his brother’s side and nodded silently. “I figured as much, although I must admit, I grew doubtful of it when nothing showed up on the mind reader."

Stan glanced away for a second. "Yeah, uh, weird. Maybe he don't show up on that thing if he isn't actively possessin' you. '

"Who knows," Ford said with a sigh. "But this really isn’t good. We might not be able to hide it from the kids much longer. Maybe we should tell them now before anything too bad happens."

Stan winced and looked away. "Dipper ‘n Mabel," he said softly. "Ford, they - they're gonna hate me. How am I supposed to tell those kids that their own grunkle Stan messed up so badly he actually revived the worst thing outta their lives somehow?"

"I am sure they'll understand, Stanley," Ford said, trying to cheer him up.

 "Or they'll be terrified beyond belief," Bill butted in, completely ruining Ford’s good intentions.  Stan had a flash of a vision of an utterly terrified Mabel, with Dipper standing protectively in front of her, arming himself with anything to protect himself with, a look of pure hatred in his eyes. Though their voices were next to not existent, he could make out quiet sobbing from both of them.

It was a very realistic image, and also exactly what Stan feared would happen. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the image away. "Ford," he begged quietly, "can we just... avoid telling em for a little while longer?"

"Do you really think that is a good idea?" Ford questioned. "Or is that just something HE would want us to do?"

"I'm pretty sure it's somethin’ _I_ want, Pointdexter. Don't know if it's a good idea, I'm full of bad ideas myself," Stan sighed. "I managed to undo the one good thing I ever did."

Ford sighed again, not really knowing how to comfort his brother, so he opted for: "Fine, but once things start to get too out of hand, even just a little, I will tell them."

Stan looked away again. "Fine," he said curtly, "you know best." He crossed his arms. "D'ya happen to know any way to kill this bastard within a few hours?"

"Not really," Ford said. "Most of the tools I originally created to do that are now broken or incomplete. There is nothing I have against him now."

 "Not even that dumb memory eraser thing," Bill sung lightly in high tones, clearly happy that blasted thing was destroyed by Mabel.

 Stan threw his hands in the air. "Then what are we going to DO? You're the expert on triangle business! Think of something! Lock me in a cage for all I care! "

"I... I..." Ford stumbled, before burying a hand in his hair "I really don't know!"

Stan kicked the wall opposite from them. "Godammnit! Goddammit, I don't know either." He growled in frustration. Suddenly he looked up. "Uh, hey, this might be a long shot, but didn't you have some kinda spell to enter my brain? I know the kids used it on me last summer."

Ford perked up slightly and got to his feet. "You’re a genius, Stanley! I’d say it's worth a shot. I should have a separate note of it somewhere in here.”

Bill interrupted again. "Oh that won’t do anything."

"And why not, big shot? Scared Sixer's gonna shoot you in the face?" Stan said annoyed.

Ford halted and turned around."Um, Stan?" he said confused. "What is he saying?"

"He's talking bullshit again. I'm not gonna humor it by repeating that stuff," Stan said, still also getting up from the floor. "He's a lying son of a bitch, remember?"

Ford still looked worried.

"Stanford, ya spent thirty years in some I don't know what godforsaken hellscape hunting this bastard! What are you nervous about?" Stan frowned.

“Aren’t humans just adorable?” Bill whispered in his ear.

Stan rolled his eyes and pointed at his head. "And YOU'RE stalling!"

"I don’t know," Ford sighed. "I would know what I was dealing with when it’s just him possessing you, but he can't just enter someone's mind like this without a deal. And I don't think you would ever give in to one of his offerings. This is a completely new situation for me."

 Stan scoffed. "The bastard didn't even try offering me stuff," he said. "Well, not since last year just before I knocked him out of existence, but I didn't take any of that. Then how... -"

A small thought, a hint of a memory emerged in his head, but it was too ridiculous, too terrifying to pay it any mind, so Stan pushed it firmly down again. Instead, he hit his hand on the desk. "Well, who'd expect a guy like that to play by the rules anyway?!"

"Those aren't rules he can break, Stanley," Ford said firmly. "Not with all the power he possessed, he could do anything near that."

"Well, he did!" Stan yelled, "He's in here without a deal! Does it really matter _how_ he did it?"

"You should really listen to Fordsy," Bill said, drowning out Ford’s answer. "He's usually right!"

Stan raised his eyebrows at that. "Coming from _you_?" he said. "Well, now I know yer lying for sure, bucko." He turned to Ford. "Bill's siding with you," he said dryly, "make of that what you will."

Ford sighed, barely knowing what to do. "Maybe it’s best for you to rest, I will look for that spell and see if I can contact that friend of mine,” he finally said, getting up and rubbing the binge of his nose. This was too much even for him

"Stanford, he was talking about a matter of _hours_ ," Stan said, pacing up and down. "I would never forgive myself if anything happened to the kids. Why d'ya think I'm getting your help in this?" He stood still. "I mean, apart from the whole trusting thing we got goin’ on lately," he said apologetically.

"Fine, then you’ll need help me look," Ford said, closing his eyes, getting up and trying to find the little scrap of paper he had written the spell on before throwing his journals away, in case he’d ever need to revive Stan’s memories again when childhood video’s weren’t cutting it anymore. He hadn’t expected a situation to use it in to present itself so soon though.

Stan threw open some drawers and started dumping their contents on the floor. "What's the darn thing look like?" he asked urgently. "Did ya happen to mark it somehow?"

"I think-" Ford tried to stay calm with his brother messing up his study. "I barely recall what it looks like. Although, I think it probably has some coffee stains and a few blood stains.”

Stan turned to Ford. "Ford, yer describing every single piece of paper ya ever touched. D'ya have anything a little more helpful? Like where ya last kept it?" He threw one of the closets open and went though the maps in there, throwing all the useless stuff behind him on the floor.

Ford flinched, before storming towards a few folders and going through them.

 "Eureka!" he yelled suddenly, once he passed through the third of fourth, holding the piece of paper up in triumph.

Stan dropped his handful of papers he was holding on the ground and made his way over to Ford. He clasped a hand on his shoulder. "You magnificent bastard," he laughed. "We're gonna hug now. That's a thing that's happening." He wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled him close.

Ford laughed, not protesting against the hug, but broke it off a bit quicker than usual to get the spell and this whole situation over with. "Now let’s do this," he said, placing a hand on Stan's forehead and spoke the spell to enter his brother’s consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist: 'RIP Ford's study. We did not know you well.'


	8. The Mindscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of mistakes is made. Plots are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I got a bit of unexpected free time and motivation (thanks to the lovely comments!) so here is the new chapter a week earlier than I said it'd be!
> 
> I play Stanley  
> Aritst plays Ford and Bill

It was dark.

Ford assumed he was in Stan’s mind, but it was dark all around him. Definitely not what he was expecting, considering the other mindscapes he’d ever seen. He could only see one very vague shape hovering near him in this void. He called out to it, willing his voice to be steady.

"Stanley?"

The shape stirred and shifted and slowly moved closer to him, Ford holding his breath despite himself, but to his relief, his brother’s voice sounded through the darkness.

"This is my mind?" Stan asked, clearly disoriented, coming into view. "Looks much different from the last time I was here. I killed Bill in the living room of the shack."

As on cue, the realm slightly lit up to show a vague approximation of the living room, more of a backdrop than actual realm.

 "Well, let’s see if the _smart_ one gets it,” Bill's voice suddenly rang through the dark. A transparent triangle consisting of only thin golden lines appeared right behind Stan. "It's been far too long already! I’m getting _impatient_!”

 Ford’s breath hitched in his throat. For some reason there was still a small part in him that had been refusing to believe Bill was actually back. But there he was. Undeniable. He clearly heard the demon speak and was unable to tear his eyes away from the triangle behind Stan, who rolled his eyes annoyed while Bill was speaking and then looked back at him at bit strangely.

As Bill spoke, the golden lines were also sinking into Stan’s form, leaving just a faint golden glow underneath his skin and just as Bill- because it was _Bill-_ was completely gone, Stan’s body started to move towards Ford again.

Ford took a step back as Stan approached him, shielding his eyes against the bright light shining from his skin. He hit a wall with his back-it felt wrong, fuzzy somehow, like electromagnetic noise.

He forced himself to look back up. “Stanley?” he called out again, this time not managing to keep his voice completely under control.

Stanley looked up at him with a weird little grin.

 "We've been watching each other for so long and now I finally get the chance to talk to ya again, Sixer," Bill’s voice sung lightly out of his mouth, which only caused Ford to go more rigid.

Before he had a chance to respond, asking what he meant or just focusing on materializing some kind of gun, the golden glow dimmed and the grin slipped off Stan’s face, replaced by a strained expression.

"Ford," he huffed out, "hold on." He took a few steps back. "Think you can just take control of MY body, huh?" he growled. He took another step back and balled his fists. Before Ford could correct him-it was just a _manifestation_ of his body- Stan punched himself square in the face and fell to the ground, groaning.

The golden glow under his skin died out completely, leaving them again in the darkened approximation of the shack.

"Not much longer and I'll have what is mine again," Bill voice faded out around them. "But I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about!"

Ford grabbed Stan by his lower arm, inspecting his face and the bruise that was forming already. “We’re in the mind. You can just-“

“I know,” Stan interrupted him and sniffed. The bruise halted and shrunk back to nothing again.

Ford frowned. "Stan," he spoke up, stern much like his father, "what did Bill tell you so far?"

"Uh..." Stan hesitated, "You know...stuff ‘n such. End of the world blah blah blah, uh, something about a rebirth. You know, Bill stuff!"

 

A door suddenly rushed past and came to a halt behind them, flooding the room with light as it opened. Giving his brother a short glance, Ford made his way towards it, not saying anything. He was certain Stan was hiding something from him, but being in his mind meant he could now figure things out for himself.

Stan rushed towards his and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Ford, let's-let's not get hasty here now! I guarantee yer not gonna like what's behind that door. Please. Let a man have his privacy?"

"Come on, Stanley," Bill chirped from above, "he deserves to know." With that, the door came forward, grew in size, and made both of them pass through it. All of Stan's previous conversations with Bill passed one by one, each cryptic hint and visual. Once they returned to the darkened living room, Ford had his fists clenched and shaking

"W-what?" Stan said, "It's not like- I mean, did YOU get any of that? Bill's a liar, Stanford! He's just- just being a creepy son of a bitch, nothing he says makes sense!"

"That's not the point! Why didn't you tell me about this before?" Ford spat in his face. "God knows what's happening and how long it might take for this to get out of hand, but if I had known sooner, maybe I could have come up with more!"

"I told ya as soon as I realized it'd be bad!" Stan said back. "Before that we weren't even sure I wasn't just going senile, remember? And hey! Sue me for not really wanting to talk about some crazy geometry demon talkin' about my worst fears!"

"Oh, I know those already," Bill’s voice interrupted the sibling bickering.

"I KNOW YOU KNOW THEM!" Stan yelled, turning around to where he assumed Bill was. "Can you two _maybe_ stop tag teaming me? Ford, this was a bad idea an' I'd like to wake up now."

"Oh, but before you do, I would love to have some fun," Bill interrupted again, chains capturing both men off guard and pulled them to opposite sides.

"Ugh, this again," Stan complained, wiggling against his chains. "Supernatural bein's and their obsession with puttin' me in chains."

Bill just laughed as he manifested himself, his shape finally starting to look a bit more solid. "Boy, you two really did not think this mission through. Did you think you could defeat me by just ignoring me? Let’s have some real fun now! Do you wanna do the honors, Stanley?" he asked with a chuckle, slipping an arm within Stan's and moving it a little.

"I don't even know what yer on about, pointy fuck!" Stan groaned at him, trying to pull his arm back to no avail. He turned his head to Ford. "Ford! I have no idea what he's on about! You have to believe me!"

Ford said nothing, merely avoided his brother’s gaze. Bill sighed as he slipped his arm out of Stan's arm. "Fine, but you should get used to it." Floating over to Ford and making him face him, he said: "You should too! I’ve been pretty bored all those years in my catatonic state."

"Ford, c'mon! You know me! You know I would never wanna have anything to do with him!" Stan yelled desperately.  "C'mon! He isn't even making sense now!"

 Bill just chuckled at the two before sending a lightning bolt into Ford's stomach. Even though they were in the mind, Ford was dumbfounded as it hurt like hell, making him stumble to his knees.

"Ford!" Stan yelled again, struggling some more against his bonds. He directed his words at Bill.

 "Hey! What are ya harassing my brother for? It's me you want, for some reason! Just kill me or whatever and let him go!"

 "You?" Bill said surprised, tone void of his former laughter. "No, I don't want to kill you, Stan. Why would I do that?"

 He laughed, turning to Ford again.

 "No. Your family is who I want to see dead."

 

Before the demon could do anything else, Ford mumbled another chant, which quickly snapped both men back to reality. Ford immediately started to cough once he awoke with a strangled gasp and got to his knees.

 Stan remained lying on the ground and stared at the ceiling. He was terrified. Guilt hit him with each of his brother's coughs. "Guess I fucked up," he mumbled.

"I'm done," Ford heaved, still feeling the pain from being hit in the stomach, even if it was within his brother’s mind. "I'm going to tell the kids."

Stan nodded at the ceiling. "Yeah," he said flatly. "Should I come or d'ya want me to stay here where I can't fuck up any more."

Ford just sighed. "I don't know. I am still confused by what Bill said."

Stan sighed. He knew the truth, had understood it the moment he had laid eyes on Bill in his mind, but found he just didn’t have the energy left to keep denying it to himself-or to his brother, for that matter.

"He's me," he mumbled, still at the ceiling.

“Hm?” Ford turned his head to him.

"I don't know how, but I know that's what's goin' on. I figured it out a while ago." Stan continued.  He closed his eyes. "I know it don't make sense. I felt it for the first time when I shattered him last year. Recognition, I mean."  He opened his eyes and looked at Ford. "I figured it was just the heat of the moment, but now he's back, sayin' the same stuff. Or, maybe I'm back. It's confusing to me too."

 He sat up. "But he's different from me, Ford. An' not just because he's talking geometry. I'd die for this family."

Ford was quiet for a while. "You’re not making any sense, Stan," he finally spoke.  "We’ll get back to your theory later. Right now, we should be focusing on preventing Bill from taking over your body.” He got up and paced up and down the room.

 "It’s not a theory an’ if that happens you shoot me," Stan said annoyed. "You promised, Ford. An' it should be easier for you now ya know who I really am."

Ford groaned.

"Ford? You promised!" Stan said urgently, getting to his knees. "Don't make me convince ya. You had no qualms shooting me last year, when we both thought that'd kill me."

"Things have changed, Stanley.”

"Oh, come on! Don't tell me ya didn't enjoy shooting me in the face at least a little bit!" Stan yelled, now fully getting up. "I ruined your life! More than once!"

"And we spend an entire year going around, hunting after other anomaly spots all over the world," Ford snapped. "Stan, bad things happened, but for the last year we have spend way more time together. You have saved me more than once. I am just not sure I could...-" He couldn't even bring himself to finish that sentence.

"Well, what if- what if I could convince ya I’m…- what if I could start recallin' things from way back when?" Stan said, just slightly hesitant. "Like-like, I remember…workin' together. On a thing." The same weird little grin crept over his face. "I called ya Sixer!"

 

 Ford's breath hitched at the mention of that nickname, immediately looking over at Stan confused and shocked.

"Oh come on! I'm the one who came up with that name," Stan said, grinning wider, "Back when we were kids, remember? Ya never found it strange I kept calling you that?"

"Ah, sorry," Ford shook his head. "I'm just so used to him calling me that, I forgot."

"That's cause HE'S the one who came up with it," Stan said, walking closer to Ford. "He's me, Sixer! I'm the one calling you that!"

Ford hid his face in his hands, groaning. "This is quite a lot to take, Stanley. You can’t expect me to just go along with this!" Leaning back again, he asked: "How would the kids react to all of _this_?"

Stan spun around. "I don't care!" he sang. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. "I mean, I DO care. They're gonna be devastated, Ford!" He clasped his hands over his mouth. "Oh God," he choked out.

"What's wrong?" Ford asked, joining his brother’s side.

Stan leaned heavily on the desk. "Everything is wrong, Ford," he mumbled, "especially me."

Before he walked to the elevator, Ford laid a hand on Stan's shoulder and said: "I am sure we can get this under control. You certainly aren’t like Bill, Stanley. We will just work on getting Bill out of your head and everything will be fine."

Stan shook his head silently. He wasn't so sure about that. That little moment of indifference he'd just felt was... not good. "He's not the one gettin' stronger," he said softly, after Ford left, "I am.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stan 'VERY BAD IDEA' Pines in action.


	9. The Museum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper, Mabel and Stan obtain some party points, while Ford reconnects with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID YOU GUYS ALL THINK I DIED? THINK AGAIN! HAHAHAHA!
> 
> ...No, seriously, sorry guys for the long wait. In all honesty, I simply cannot promise I'll keep the same insane update schedule I had for the first few chapters, but I will try to make the next update hiatus a little shorter again. 
> 
> Some chapter information:  
> First of all, this one is a little light on the Stan content. I know, my fellow Stan stans, it pains me too, but we needed some exposure and moving the story forward. 
> 
> Secondly, Artist and I decided that the huge ass room in the shack that they throw parties in and shit is called the Museum, so don't get confused by the chapter title. 
> 
> And thirdly, as always:
> 
> Artist plays Ford and Soos  
> I play Mabel, Dipper, Stan and *drumrolls* Jheselbraum!

Mabel was jumping up and down on the bed and Dipper was busy setting up a new corkboard on the wall of their room. In the middle was a picture of Stan, surrounded by several question marks drawn on by sharpie. They looked up when Ford suddenly opened the door.

"Uh, hey kids. You, uh, doing alright?" he asked, nervous about bringing them the news, before he noticed the corkboard and started fidgeting with his hands. "I guess you noticed Stan was behaving oddly, huh?"

 "Dipper's money is on a poltergeist, but I'm still deciding on a vampire bite or a pair of secret fairy wings!" Mabel said, still jumping.

 Dipper took the pen out of his mouth and pointed it at her. "Don't forget triplet theory! I haven't let go of triplet theory yet!" He looked at Ford. "I mean..." he shrugged, "It could be possible, right?"

Ford couldn’t help but smile as he came in. "I assure you two, it's neither of that"

Both kids turned to him.

"You mean you're just going to tell us what's going on?" Dipper said incredulously, lowering his pen. "You're not gonna wait until the last possible moment to reveal some big secret?"

 "Forcing us to face our inner morals and convictions?" Mabel added.

Ford frowned lightly as he took a seat on Dipper's bed. "We have been waiting for too long already," he sighed, before sitting up straight. "Kids, we have reason to believe Bill Cipher has returned."

Mabel stopped jumping and Dipper let the pen fall out of his mouth on the ground.

 "Bill's... dead, right?" Mabel said slowly, glancing at Dipper.

 Dipper shook his head. "How?" he asked quietly.

"For what Stanley and I could figure out, he seemingly found a way to be... reborn,” Ford explained, standing up and pacing through the room. “His statue spontaneously broke during a regular checkup when Stanley came in contact with it. Ever since, he has been appearing in his dreams and after some…tests, I can be fairly certain it is the real Bill who has taken residence in Stan’s mind.”

 He briefly glanced at the kids. "We don't quite know what else might happen. Knowing Bill, he won’t just stop in Stan’s mind if he can help it."

 "Stan...?" Mabel said, now sitting down. " _That's_ the reason he's been acting all weird-like?"

Dipper sat down too. "Bill is back and he’s in Stan's head." He pulled up his knees and put his arms around them, but before Ford could say anything, he perked up again.

 "But we'll save him, right? We've defeated Bill before! We can defeat Bill and he’ll be dead again, right?"

"Heh" Ford chuckled lightly. "Stan is stubborn. I am sure he can handle the demon while we find out more and restrain him."

"Yeah!" Mabel said, "Who cares if Bill is back? We're just gonna kick his butt again and save our grunkle Stan!" She stood up and Dipper joined her.

"What can we do?" he asked.

"I'm not certain on what to do." Ford admitted reluctantly.  "The whole situation is very unique and I haven’t figured out a definite way to deal with it so far that doesn’t involve improvisation. I really appreciate your help, but I don't think there is much you two could do as we stand now."

"Well, there's gotta be something," Dipper said. "Have you tried an exorcism yet?"

 Ford briefly considered informing the two of the other bit of information that Stan had just sprung on him, but he decided against it. There was no denying that Stan had not been in his right mind when he’d started claiming he was some sort of Bill reincarnation. It was no use to concern the kids with something that unfounded. Instead, he just smiled. “We should probably obtain more information before we make rash decisions, my boy.”

 Mabel walked up to Ford. "We just wanna help, grunkle Ford. Do you think Stan would like some cheer up chocolate?"

"I think he could use a whole mountain of cheer up chocolate,” Ford said seriously. “Maybe you two could throw him a little cheer up party or something." He shrugged, knowing that especially Mabel would know quite a few ways to cheer her great uncle up. Plus, the two wanted to help him somehow, so while they would, he could continue trying to contact Jheselbraum

Mabel pushed Dipper in the shoulder. "See? I told you grunkle Stan wanted a cheer up party!" She smiled. "Oh Dipper, when will you learn I'm always right?"

 Dipper smiled too and rubbed his hair. "Well, if that's what Stan wants..."

"It sure is something he could need," Ford sighed, yet smiled at his great niece and nephew. "This is after all quite a strange situation and he surely could use family most of all now." 

"Well, let's get on it!" Mabel yelled as she grabbed Dipper's hand and ran out of the room. "Bye great uncle Ford," Dipper said hastily as he was being dragged after his sister.

 He only laughed at the two. He dearly hoped Stan might appreciate the gift that would grant him the time to seriously attempt to get in contact with Jheselbraum, something he certainly was nervous about as well, haven't seen her in so long. Should he maybe get dressed a bit fancier?

 

 

Stan was still sitting on the chair in the study with his head in his hands. He was already regretting everything he’d said to Ford, although Ford wasn't freaking out as much as he'd expected. The truth had probably not sunk in yet or something.

"You okay?"

Stan looked up at Ford in the doorway. "I'm peachy," he said dryly. "You? How'd the kids take it?"

 "Rather fine actually," Ford said a bit exhausted, before giving his brother a small smile "In fact, they want to help and plan a little something for you"

Stan smiled too. "Figures. Those kids," he said fondly. "What _won't_ they forgive?"

"They are waiting in the museum for you. I will try contacting my friend while you enjoy yourselves."

 Stan frowned. "Just how big's this thing they're throwing gonna be? They're aware I'm housing some murderous geometry in my thinker, right?"

 "Guess they wanna use the time Bill isn't as strong or in control of your body yet to show their support and give you one more night of family fun time," Ford shrugged innocuously.

"One more night..." Stan repeated softly. "Well, if that'd help 'em, I'm more than happy to spend my potentially last night with my favorite niece and nephew."

"I wish you a lot of fun,” Ford said.

Stan nodded and got up. "I'll put on a pair of pants," he said solemnly.

 

 

 Stan nervously stood in the elevator that brought him back to ground floor a while later. He made his way to the museum and when he got there it was completely dark inside. "Hello? Kids?" he called out.

Suddenly a single light beam fell on a turning disco ball that someone hand hung from the ceiling and the room lit up. "Surprise!" a small group of people called out. Dipper and Mabel, together with Soos, Melody and Wendy had all gathered for Stan’s party. The whole room had been rather crudely decorated, a banner with "Bill Support Group" written on it hung on a wall, together with some other decorations and a few snacks were set up on a table, quite a few being some of Stan's favorites.

"We heard about what was going on from the twins, Mr. Pines." Soos was the first to talk after throwing himself almost onto Stan with a hug. "And we joined in on showing you that we support you. Don’t face that dude all by yourself, dude!" He was almost crying again, his eyes still a little red from an obvious earlier crying session.

"Thanks Soos," Stan said, patting him on the back. He eyed a tasteful “Bill Is a Poophead” banner hanging on one of the walls. "Ha. Haha," he laughed nervously.

 "Yeah, like Soos said,” Wendy added. "We've got your back man."

 "And that's a pinkie promise!" Mabel chimed in, doing her best to link her pinkie finger with Stan's.

 Stan linked his pinky with Mabel's, then quickly let go. "I appreciate it a lot everyone, really do," he said. He was quiet for about a second.

He looked like he was about to say something, but stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of everyone’s smiling faces. A small smile crept on his own, which quickly broke into a large grin.

 He stepped into the middle of the group and threw his arms up.

 "DEATH TO THE TRIANGLE!"

 "DEATH TO THE TRIANGLE!" the group cheered back at him, before Soos started a music track as the ever so faithful DJ for parties at the Shack.

 

 

While they were partying, Ford managed to get an old laptop running a connection to other dimensions with some old gadgets from his dimension hopping days, currently quickly zapping through nameless dimensions to find Dimension 52.

 Suddenly, without a warning, the screen turned off, then briefly lit up to light pink and then very slowly an image fizzled into life. The image was seven eyes in a very extreme close up, all intently peering at the screen. Three loud taps came from the speakers, with a slight echoed delay.

"Helloo? Is this thing on?" a silvery voice sounded through the room.

Ford jumped in his seat, barely believing what he saw. Did he really find her again?

 "Ah, yes, hello!" he spat out as he messed around with some buttons again, hoping to get the picture clearer. "This is Stanford Pines, looking for Jheselbraum the Unswerving."

All seven eyes widened and pulled back hastily, finally showing a full face on the screen. Jheselbraum stared shocked at the camera for just a fraction of a second, before she coughed and straightened her robes, then blinked with all seven eyes and gave a charming smile.

 "Stanford Pines. It's been a while," she said warmly.

 "Heh, it really has been," Ford chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck "It’s... nice to see you again."

Jheselbraum chuckled too. "It's good to see you too, Stanford. You're looking well. You were such a skinny thing when I sent you off last time." She laughed fondly at the memory and put her chin on her hand.

 "But you must have something urgent on your plate, because Axel always has a good reason to connect people."

 Ford was smiling at the memory too, before turning serious again at her words. “Oh, yes, yes,” he mumbled, sitting right up. "I fear... I think Bill has returned. It has been an entire year since me and my family managed to defeat him, but we now believe he's back, and perhaps reborn as... my own brother out of all people. God, I am still so confused," he groaned at the last bit, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He must have sounded ridiculous towards her.

Jheselbraum closed her eyes and nodded. She grumbled something that suspiciously sounded like 'that little shit’ although it was unclear who she was referring to. She folded her hands together.

"Stanford Pines, do you love your brother?"

Ford, frowned, and then nodded.

 "We spend a whole year bonding after our past differences. And when this came up, I had to contact you, learning anything I could about things like the axolotl Bill mentioned and if there is any way I could save and protect my family."

Jheselbraum rubbed small circles on her forehead.

"The axolotl works in mysterious ways. And by that I mean it has an… interesting sense of humor."

Ford sighed. "Well, it was worth a try. But do you think there is anything I _can_ do to protect my family? I am running low on ideas and..." He paused, avoiding eye contact, "You always knew better than me when it comes to things such as Bill."

 Jheselbraum put a hand to the screen and smiled. "Don't cut yourself short, Stanford Pines. I've only helped you along the way." She frowned. "But I guess I can tell you what I'm allowed to tell you."

 Her eyes lit up bright white and with a slight echo in her voice, she started speaking.

_"Bill received his second chance. He was gifted with the ability to mature."_

 Once she started to chant, Ford scrambled, a bit surprised by the sudden echo and grabbing a pen and paper to note her words down.

 Immediately after the last word left her mouth, Jheselbraum's eyes stopped glowing and she coughed a little while hitting herself on the chest. "I hope that was helpful," she heaved.

"It certainly is better than nothing," Ford sighed, looking down at the words on his notebook, not quite sure what to do with that piece of information.

 "Thank you, Jhes"

Jheselbraum smiled. "What kind of an oracle would I be if I just gave you actual straightforward advice? But know I'm always rooting for you, Stanford Pines."

He smiled at her, before he asked a question that had bothered him for a long time.

 "Where did you go when you suddenly vanished all those years ago?"

She smiled at him again. "I went home," she said simply.

"Sure was surprised to wake up with a hangover in some other dimension," Ford laughed lightly when recalling that day.

"If I had allowed you to stay longer, you might not have wanted to leave," Jheselbraum said still smiling, but with a hint of melancholy. "Every creature is eventually meant to arrive at its home and yours was not here."

Ford nodded quietly, before he remembered to talk.

 "You are right of course, and I was happy to be rejoined with my family, my brother, my great niece and nephew," he said with a smile, before growing a little melancholic himself. "But I must admit, occasionally I do miss Dimension 52."

 "Dimension 52 misses you too, Stanford," Jheselbraum said, leaning in closer. She opened her mouth to say more, but suddenly the screen began flickering and showing noise. Jheselbraum turned to the side.

"Already?" she asked, her voice already fading.

Then the screen turned to black again, leaving Ford staring at his own face.

He sighed, fidgeting with his buttons to see if he could do anything to get it back, but by her reaction alone he knew it was pointless, although that didn’t stop him from keeping it up for quite some time.

 Eventually, he leaned back in his chair in the empty room, before looking back at the vague hint she had left him. He shook his head, grabbed the paper and made his way up the stairs to the others.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interpret their relation however you want i guess. We kept it a bit ambiguous for a reason.
> 
> Another real piece of fun fact! Jhes calling the axolotl 'Axel' is actually an amazing piece of meta humor by yours truly, because Axel is, in fact, my own nickname too.
> 
> The real axolotl was inside me all along, you guys.


	10. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party rock is in the house tonight / Everybody just have a good time / And we gon' make you lose your mind / We just wanna see ya, shake that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd apologize for the chapter summary, but I'm not sorry.
> 
> Ten chapters in! I can't believe it!  
> I can't tell you guys how much I've been looking forward to this chapter. Finally the important things are said and the plot rears it ugly head again. Also Artist and I get to lovingly roast our favorite characters. 
> 
> So, a heads up, I can imagine this chapter is a little confusing at points, but I hope it gets the message across. We have a blurry personalities tag for a reason.
> 
> Without further ado:  
> I play Stan  
> Artist plays Ford, Soos, Melody and Bill
> 
> [EDIT] duuuude check the word count!! I'll never be able to add another chapter again

Back at the party, the whole group was busy doing the macarena dance to a song that was not the macarena, except for Wendy, who was looking on slightly bemused from the sideline, and Stan, who looked like a man who had given up on trying to learn the macarena a long time ago and was now doing some off-beat pointing at random spots on the wall.

 He waved at Ford as he entered the room.

 "Come and join us, Fordsy! This party is goin' through the roof! Any luck with your friend?"

"A little" Ford said as he joined his brother’s side and handed him the paper. "She always gives vague hints. I’m not quite certain what she's saying this time."

Stan glanced over the paper. "Mature?" he asked. "That don't sound like me. Ya sure she didn't have me confused with someone else?"

"No!" Ford said, slightly heated. “She's a highly respected oracle and she's very wise. She's...-" He stopped himself, coughed lightly and avoided eye contact as his face grew a little red. "She's just not wrong. She wasn't wrong before, she won’t be wrong now."

Stan handed the paper back between two fingers. "Sheesh, sensitive topic much?" He laughed as Ford grabbed the paper back. "Lighten up, Sixer! It's a party! In MY honor, no less!" He grabbed Ford's hand and made him do a little pirouette.

Ford yelped in surprise, before he started laughing when he came to a stop. "Alright, fine," he said, pocketing the hint for now and decided to give the weird synchronized dance the others seemed to be doing a chance.

They partied until it was time for the kids to go to bed, then until it was time for the kids to _really_ go to bed, and then until it was really-really-no-we're-serious-this-time,-your-parents-will-kill-us-if-you-don't-go-now-time to go to bed.

 Afterwards, Stan leaned on the kitchen table with a content sigh. It didn’t last long and he pushed himself upright. "Now let's get the booze out. This night calls for the good stuff. Soos, ya got some of my old bottles still lying around?"

"I did not dare touch the stuff," Soos said, getting one rather shyly.

Stan took the bottle with a grin. "Good as new!" He opened the cupboards, but frowned slightly when he only found cups and juice glasses. With a shrug he settled for the glasses and set four of them on the table. "Everyone's joining, yeah?"

"Uh, sure why not," Melody said with a shrug, sitting down next to her boyfriend and gently patted his hand.

 "S-Sure, Mr. Pines," Soos stammered a bit, still nervous seeing as this was his first time drinking anything strong. "What is a man without a drink? Hehehe....”

Ford shrugged simply and sat down, not saying anything but surely also not denying the offer.

Stan sat down in between Soos and Ford and poured them all two fingers. "Follow my lead, Soos," he said with a grin, then downed it all in one gulp and set the glass back on the table with a smack.

"O-Okay" Soos said when he took his glass. Melody still held his hand reaffirming as he downed it all.  "Oh, that tastes quite intense," he said meekly.

Stan turned his head slowly towards him, then started grinning widely and slapped him on the back. "Quite intense, he says!" he laughed. "Soos, yer a natural! Me and Ford both spent at least half an hour wheezing after our first drink!"

"Not the fondest memory," Ford admitted as he downed his drink to follow Soos and let out a wheeze, followed by Melody, who took it a bit better than her boyfriend or Ford, men who weren't as used to drinking.

Stan filled their glasses all up again and everyone settled in comfortably into the conversation, talking about the night, sailing the sea, running the shack, the state of the town and everything else that get spoken about when one is amongst friends and family and getting a little tipsy.

"I just wanna say," Stan said, after downing his umpteenth drink, holding up his finger, “that you guys are the best family a guy could wish for. I don't know what an old codger like me did to deserve you lot."

The others were quite in their own drunken states too, the count of how many drinks they’d had had been lost much earlier in the evening.

 Ford was faceplanting the table by then, not quite asleep judging by the muffled noises coming from him, and the fact that he was occasionally lifting his head to correct Stan’s grammar, while Soos and Melody sat even closer together, giggling to themselves and talking in low tones.

Melody did respond to Stan, former timidness gone. "Oh yeah! We're the bestestest, WOOHOO!"  She joined Ford's faceplanting example soon after, before Soos spoke. "Yus! We're the codger family! Hehehehe" Helping his lady sit straight again, they joined in another hug before Melody shouted,

"DEATH TO THE TRIANGLE!"

 "Yeah, death to me," Stan’s mouth mumbled, grinning - but more importantly- without Stan’s permission.

His eyebrows shot up and he glanced to Soos and Melody to assess whether they'd heard him. He couldn't properly determine if it had been him who'd just said that or the actual triangle residing in his head. Neither option seemed very desirable.

However, nothing really had changed about the table situation, Soos and Melody were mostly concerned with themselves and Ford was still faceplanting.

His surroundings grew seemingly darker to Stan's already blurry vision, until next to everything vanished around the desk, even Ford, Melody and Soos.

The only one there with Stan was Bill, looking more whole and illuminating than Stan had seen him for a long time.

The demon took a seat and snapped his fingers to make a cocktail glass appear in his hands. He made a show of taking a long and slow sip. He kept his eye closed for a moment, and opened it with a loud ‘ah!’ Finally, he looked over at Stan.  “Surprised?”

Stan put a hand to his head and leaned on the table heavily. "Not really," he mumbled, “‘cept for that you let it go on for so long. I figured it out, remember? You’re me, so now I guess I got a general sense of what yer gonna do and when yer intending to do so."

"I guess I’ve gotten bad at lying to myself," Bill said, taking a small sip. "But I certainly won’t lose to you. I mean, look at you, I can’t believe how bad that thing downgraded me."

"We're usually pretty good at lying to ourselves," Stan agreed, also taking another sip of his drink that inexplicably followed him into his dreamscape. "I'm glad I grew outta that dumb margarita phase though. You really look like an idiot with that stuff, Cipher." He grinned as he put his glass down. "Winning, losing. Dare I say I think I'm not the only one who had a good time tonight?"

"I can imagine better times," Bill said, setting his drink down in the air next to him, slightly affronted as it disappeared in thin air.

Stan grinned at him again and lazily stretched his arms, then got up from the table and made his, only very slightly wobbly, way over to Bill. "We both know you're a liar, Bill."

"So are you," Bill responded. "And if I know one thing about myself is that _I_ like moments like these-"

He snapped his fingers and Stan found himself in what looked like the Shack, but he felt tape stuck on his brows and everything looked so stuffed around him with weird nerdy things he only sort of recognized.

Stan could feel his (his?)  body be completely exhausted, but was also overcome with a sense of what he could only describe as extreme giddiness. He wasn't completely sure where he was or what was happening- although it felt familiar- but he was certain he was having the time of his life.

"Don't tell me you don't recall this,” Bill's voice echoed around his skull as this body made his way to grab the first aid kit. Once that was retrieved, it was clear this wasn't Stan’s body. Its hand had six fingers.

"Sixer!" Stan said surprised, but still grinning. The movements did seem familiar, although it was hard to tell if he was doing them on his own, or whether he was just simply following a set script. His- or Sixer's- or Bill's- hand curled around an object from the kit. He had a sense of what was going to happen next and, surprisingly, he felt a laugh bubbling in his-their- throat.

"It always was fun to mess with Fordsy," Bill's voice rang in his ears again, just as the memory projection took the bottle of medical alcohol, dropping the glasses and chunking a good amount of the burning alcohol in his eyes. It burned badly.

Stan barked out a loud laugh as he felt like Sixer’s eyes were burning out of their skull. "Haha! Wow! He's gonna feel that when he wakes up!" someone laughed. "Ford's always been so fun to mess with."

Suddenly, the scenery around them became pitch black again, with only two little light spots in front of Stan's face. He jumped from his hiding spot. "BOO!" little Stanley laughed loudly at Ford's high pitched squeak as he removed the monster mask from his face.

"Surely not as much fun causing him pain," Bill commented, agitated, because he had not been the one who had summoned that scene just then, and the scene changed to inside his pyramid, just as Ford was getting electrocuted.

Stan sent another bolt of energy from his eye and laughed as Ford screamed out in pain. Gosh, he had been angry at him about...something. The details were a little unclear in his mind, but he was certain it had something to do with Ford turning his back on him. In his mind, all memories so far had felt like happy memories, although the chronology in them was a little difficult to assess. He shrugged and laughed again when he sent Sixer another five hundred volts.

"See?" Bill said. "Isn't this quite fun? And imagine just how much more we could have done!" The memory faded into fantasy and as Ford begged them to stop, they snapped their fingers and, with a scream, Ford was turned inside out, wheezing and screaming in a distorted tone.

Stan blinked and stopped for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. "But...that's Ford," he said slowly, as the scene came to a halt, like a VCR paused mid-scene, and zoomed out. "That's my brother!" The previous feelings from the happy memories were completely lost and replaced by intense horror. He turned around to the nothingness behind him.

 "We weren't just electrocuting Sixer, we were electrocuting _Ford_!" he yelled, grabbing his hair.

"Oh boohoo," Bill said, rolling his eye as he appeared in front of Stan. "Who cares? Potato, potato. It’s fun, isn't it? Family only will weigh you down and limit you in what you could be or could do." He was growing uncharacteristically emotional, seemingly having touched a touchy subject.

Stan grabbed Bill's arm and dragged him down to his eye level. "Listen up bucko and listen up well. Everything, every worthwhile thing, I've ever done has all had to do with this family. I remember 'fun', and I tell ya, it's nothing compared to the feeling of two kids leanin' against yer shoulders because they fell asleep watching TV."

That made the all too familiar scene from the past summer light up around them, Bill groaning loudly.

 "NO, IT'S NOT!" he yelled, pulling himself free and erasing it all with frantic hand movements.

Stan stumbled back, holding his hands to his ears. He breathed heavily. "You," he said, "you think you know everything. But ya went for trillions of years without learnin' a single piece of anything!"

"I LEARNED MORE THAN YOU EVER DID," Bill screeched back. "I LEARNED MORE THAN YOUR PATHETIC HUMAN BRAIN EVER DID! AND I GAINED MORE POWER THAN YOU EVER WOULD!"

Stan grinned. "Until ya got defeated by a bunch of mortals. Remember how our 'most diabolical trap yet' was beaten by two children in under an hour? Ya might know stuff, but you don't understand it."

Bill turned bright red in rage, screaming loudly and growing in size, while Stan got up; ready to deliver his final blow.

 "Face it, triangle. You are _my_ awkward puberty phase."

Bill came to a halt.

“Wha-my-your?- _your?-YOUR?-_ PUBERTY?- _PUBERTY?!”_  he sputtered. “WELL! WELL-WELL, THEN _WHY NOT HAVE SOME MORE OF IT_?"

He growled and threw himself at Stan and just like that he found himself back in the kitchen. Ford was snoring, seemingly having passed out finally and Soos and Melody were gone from their places.

Stan tried to turn his head, but his body didn't move. "Oh no," he tried to say, then "What the shit is going on," but no words left his mouth.

Instead, he felt his lips slowly curl into a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise one of these days I'll stop ending on a cliffhanger. Also, don't worry Soos and Melody are just off doing the do somewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title: Two Europeans Briefly Cryptid-shame Florida Before Getting To The Main Story.
> 
> I promise more plot will happen in the next chapter, which should be up pretty soon since it's already been written.


End file.
